Why Me? A Damien Omen II Story
by twiniitowers
Summary: What happens after Damien discovers he is the Antichrist? Also don't forget to watch "Damien" airing on A&E, March 7, 2016 at 10pm (Eastern). I am rewriting the first three chapters that I put up. Damien and Mark are sixteen from the start. Please Read and Review. Thank you. Correction: Damien would be 15 going on 16 because of his birthday on 6/6.
1. Why Me?

**_Why Me?_**

**_A Damien: Omen II story_**

_**Please Note: I had 3 chapters, put up. But I wasn't happy with them. I'm going to make Damien and Mark 15/16 from the start. If you watch The Omen Legacy documentary, it was the studio who didn't want the kids to be older. It makes more sense to have them to advance their ages. Some alternate universe, more focus on Damien and Mark and not the Buher/Thorn Industries storyline. Some original characters added. Canon characters created by David Seltzer and Joseph Howard for the novelizations and also Seltzer for the screenplay of The Omen. Plus Harvey Bernhard,Stanley Mann, Mike Hodges, for the D: OII script. I own nothing. This is a Hollywood version of a Hollywood story and not meant to be an accurate description of anyone's religious doctrines or beliefs. This was written just for fun and because I always thought the film wasted an opportunity by not focusing more on Damien and Mark. Some slashy surprises contained note: Damien would be 15 until 6/6 when he turns 16. **_

**Chapter 1**

**Why Me?**

**1978**

When the afternoon sky did not answer the boy's anguished pleas he forced himself up as the tears after finding out his true identity stuck to his fifteen-year-old face. The sky was growing darker and the light wind ripped through his back. He didn't have his outer coat on let alone his military blazer. It was freezing and he wondered if the sky was indeed mocking him. The events of today echoed throughout his whole body, not just his mind knowing all the answers in history class, it was as if another body, another self took over. The Sgt. told him to read the Bible most specifically the book of Revelation, chapter 13,_ it was about him,_ and when he found, the part that he couldn't deny, the part that confirmed his identity, the number of the beast — 666 — on his scalp. There was nothing in front of him, but water and trees. He briefly thought about drowning himself, but the new part of him that became so recently awake was not about to let him do so. He was frightened, but he tried his best not to show it. He wiped his eyes and slowly walked back to school. He needed to process this new found knowledge. He needed to go deep down into the very core of his soul before facing anyone.

* * *

"You look as though you can use a smoke, Damien." Offered his friend George when he found Damien behind the gymnasium an hour later.

Damien had no plans to enter through the main doors and face Sgt. Neff or worse yet, Mark.

_What about Mark?_

"Yeah. Thanks."

The sky was a darker midnight blue color than the morose gray at the pier. The stars were out. It seemed like any other ordinary night.

"Why did run out of school today? Is something wrong?"

Damien took one last drag on the cigarette and put it out on the ground. "I just found out who my real Father is." He replied matter-of-factly. He needed to tell someone. Someone who wasn't obviously a part of the scheme of things like Sgt. Neff and — Paul Buher! That quite explained all of his philosophical words at Mark's birthday party. He understood that he couldn't tell George the complete truth, but he needed to get some of this weight off his chest and he was fully aware that he couldn't tell Mark even this much, at least not now.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Was all he could reply with.

"You can't tell anybody, George." Damien added while feeling a mix of tiredness, hunger, impatience, anger, and even a wonderment about_ this new revelation about him._

"Don't worry; your secret is safe with me. You missed dinner, I bet you are starving."

"Yeah, I am."

"Are you going to meet your Father someday?"

Damien blinked his eyes. "I'm not sure." He whispered.

Neither one of them had permission to go off-campus but Damien knew it would be okay with Sgt. Neff if they went out to a local diner. He really didn't want to face any other familiar faces right now.

* * *

**After Bed Check**

"Where'd you go, Damien? Are you all right?" Mark inquired.

When Mark and the other cadets on the floor were getting ready for bed check Damien was able to sneak into his bunk. The sheets were cold on his skin. He tried to ignore him in the dimly lit room, but Mark wouldn't let up with his well-meaning questions of concern.

"Are you angry at me? Did I say anything to upset you?"

Damien sighed, "No."

"Where'd you go?"

"It's all right," Damien reassured, "I'm okay now. Go to sleep." He turned off the light and while Mark eventually did fall asleep, Damien stayed up until three o'clock in the morning staring at the ceiling. He wondered as his body was finally starting to fall into slumber — what would tomorrow be like?

* * *

When all the cadets were assembled safely into their classrooms Damien woke up. He remembered Sgt. Neff telling Mark this morning to "Leave him be." He took a long, hot shower; almost hoping that the mark would have disappeared, got dressed, and gave himself one last look in the mirror he realized at that very moment why he was contained in such a pretty package. He walked down the main staircase, past the secretaries, and straight into Sgt. Neff's office. He closed the door sharply behind him and announced with no emotion whatsoever in his voice.

"I know you know that I now know who I am."

* * *

"I wonder why Damien isn't in class today?" Mark gazed at his watch as second period calculus class was about to begin.

"Shut up, Mark," George looked him squarely in the eye, "Not everything that happens to Damien is your business."

Before Mark could respond the professor walked in the room.

Damien was able to slither in unnoticed five minutes later.

"Are you okay?" George whispered.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

Damien replied as he opened up his math book not bothering to look at Mark. When Damien was done copying the notes off the blackboard two things entered his mind. Last night while sleeping he recalled his fifth birthday party and his nanny called out his name proclaiming that _It Was All For Him _before she hung herself and at the beginning of their first term at Davidson when Sgt. Neff replaced Sgt. Goodrich. It was after his cloak and dagger private session with the Sgt. that he saw Teddy beating Mark up and how he didn't have to make a fist in order to stop him. _He could will. _Damien had trouble thinking of the right words to describe it. It was something that went beyond words. He just knew that he couldn't run away from it. He didn't know if he liked who he was and who he was about to become yet or not, but he knew one thing for certain that _he would not run away from it ever again._


	2. Only Bite When Provoked

**Chapter 2**

**Only Bite When Provoked**

**2 Weeks Later**

**Trigger warning: Rape**

Damien ran down the staircase of the main Thorn residence as if the mansion were on fire. He was able to take two steps at a time, which had amazed the shy fifteen-year-old girl standing in the archway. He never saw her before. She had long straight brown hair that was mousy and it covered her face.

"Hello." She began when he came to a complete stop.

"Hi."

"I'm Mary Rose." She introduced herself.

She was wearing her school uniform. She was wearing the obligatory navy blue and kelly green plaid. Her Uncle was the Father Rose. She was living at the convent since her parents were killed ten years ago. He was here to see Richard Thorn about making a donation, as the church needed extensive repairs. It was the church that Richard married his first wife Mary in and also the church Mark was baptized in. She wore a small golden crucifix on a thin chain. It made Damien extremely uncomfortable but unlike his toddler self who couldn't bear to be on church grounds, this time he wanted to do something about it.

"I'm Damien Thorn."

"My Uncle Father Rose is here to see your _FATHER_ about donating money to help fix the church."

"He's _NOT _my Father, he's my Uncle." And he wasn't even that.

"I'm sorry," She twisted her fingers, she was so nervous. He was the most beautiful young man she had ever seen.

"Would you like to look at the horses?" Damien needed the air to hit his face.

"Sure, Damien." Mary was unaware that her innocence was about to fade.

The Thorn's had two-prized Arabians, as well other breeds, but those were the two that belonged to the boys. Mark named his "Lucky" even though his horse never won a race and Damien named his "Ruby". His horse won about eight competitions so far, never winning less than third place.

"He's pretty." She put her hand out to Mark's horse who was more passive than Ruby.

"That's Mark's horse." Damien stated matter-of-factly, he opened up the gate as Mary walked in behind him.

"What's his name?"

"Lucky."

"May I feed him?"

She liked horses. Her Uncle wouldn't let her have one. She couldn't listen to rock and roll music or get her ears pierced. She never experienced any of the normal teenage rites of passage. Living in a convent was not how she wanted to live her life. She just wanted to be a typical teenage girl.

"Sure, go ahead," Damien took the latch off Ruby's gate as he rested his hands on the wooden paneling, "There are some apples in the basket."

Mary bent down and took an apple out of the basket for Lucky, as Ruby grew increasingly uncomfortable with the scent of a human stranger in the air. She polished the apple with her sweater and put it up to Lucky's mouth.

He seemed to smile a gentle smile as he ate the apple from her hand. Damien focused his stare on Ruby and his horse dug his legs in the dirt.

Mary turned around, her face frightened, she didn't have the room to move anywhere.

"Damien, what do I do?" She was anxious and didn't know what to do.

"That's my horse, Ruby, he doesn't bite." Damien went inside and pet Ruby's head.

Mary sighed when Damien put him safely back in his stall.

"Are you sure?" She walked out of Lucky's stall as Damien locked both horses in.

"Of course. They only bite when provoked."

_It was the law of the land._

Damien sat on the small haystack and invited Mary to sit next to him. She was nervous at first, what if her uncle came out here?

"Where do you go to school?" She sat down but on the other side of him. Just to be safe like her friends Mothers taught her.

"Davidson Military Academy…" Damien was certainly not in the mood for small talk. "Have you ever been kissed, Mary?"

He sat next to her, and she flinched when he put his arm around her.

"Not really."

Damien put his hands on Mary's shoulders to keep her steady as he kissed her hard. Her back arched down on the haystack. And she thought about the safety film she saw in school about girls who do things like this before they are ready. She tried to get up but he kept pinning her down.

"Damien, please I don't want to."

He was completely deaf to her anguished pleas as he slid her sweater off her shoulders and pulled her close to his throbbing body.

"N-o, no, S-t-op," Mary's tears burned down her cheeks. She couldn't fight him off, he was too strong for her.

Damien couldn't hear Mary's muffled screams, all he could hear were the sounds of twenty 747 jets taking off all at once and the sound of twisting almost breaking metal was pounding in his head as if he wasn't human.

_He wasn't human at all._

_He was the Antichrist._

The clouds covered the afternoon sun as Ruby kicked his gate open with a thunderous crash and raised his front legs as Damien thrust himself into Mary's stiff and shaking body. She tried to break away from him, but he was too forceful for her. One would doubt if it would have given Mary Rose much comfort to know that even a boy built like Mark wouldn't have been able to break away from Damien's firm hold. She did manage to wind up on top of him, but he was pinning her down like cold, hardened collapsed steel. She was violently trembling and crying as her crucifix dangled like a pendulum in front of his face. In between her legs she was bleeding a river of tainted blood. It was the worst pain of her life.

"Dam-ien...I...want...you...to...stop."

She pleaded for one last time. For the love of God, why wouldn't he stop?

The sound of wings flapping outside the barn went unnoticed as Mark ran all over the vast Thorn estate trying to find his cousin.

"Damien, where are you?"

Damien's hands reached up with a force that he didn't even know he had and through all of the clatter in his mind he tore off her necklace slashing the side of his right hand leaving a — Mark played random notes on his bugle stopping Mary's nightmare.

"Damien!"

"Shit. It's my Cousin Mark, he can't see you here." Damien said casually to Mary as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. Damien threw Mary's clothes back at her.

She was too stunned and in pain to move, but when she saw Damien pierce his eyes into hers as if to command her to "leave or die". She got dressed in the stall with the horses that witnessed it all. Mary quickly forgot that she was even afraid of Ruby as he was quietly standing next to Lucky.

Damien got dressed quickly taking pleasure watching Mary Rose's slow walk of shame out the back door. By the time Mark reached Damien he was dressed and made it appear that he was here all this time, that he was by himself and just lying around on the hay in the barn.

"Damien, what are you doing?"

"Relaxing."

"We should be outside having fun."

Damien laughed on the inside.

"_I am having fun_."

"How about a little one on one basketball?" Mark requested.

"Sure, but you know I'm going to win."

"You can't win at everything, Damien."

Damien nodded at his foolish cousin.

"Hey, what happened to your hand?" Mark noticed. It was red and bleeding.

"Nothing. I must have scratched it on a nail."

He didn't even remember HOW his hand got scratched. He wouldn't notice the faint crucifix imprint on his hand until much later and how much it angered him that it took about two hours for the imprint to completely disappear.

* * *

"You always, always win." Mark complained to Damien as he was out-of-breath as they went back to the main house after their basketball game.

"That's because I practice." Damien gloated as they made their way through the back kitchen entrance.

Mark grabbed a can of soda out of the refrigerator and threw one at Damien who caught it with one hand. Sometimes it hit Mark of just how envious of Damien that he really was. He was better looking, excelled at the academy, and Ann seemed to like him better. He remembered when Damien came to live with them he was showered with hugs and kisses from Ann. He knew he was partly imagining things that she loved the both of them the same. Didn't she?

Mark didn't understand why Damien was ignoring him lately? He seemed to be spending more time with his friends than with him. _They used to be_ _the best of friends_. _They used to be_ _like brothers._ It's not like they didn't interact with each other, but it wasn't the same. Something was different ever since that day that Damien ran down the stairs at the academy, as the band marched, running far as his legs could take him.

Mark kept it all to himself. He must have gained ten pounds, which he got grief from Sgt. Neff and some of their fellow cadets like Teddy, who wasn't exactly thin himself!

* * *

**Next Day:**

Mark decided on his free time to go to the Harold Washington branch of the Chicago Public Library to do research on Shakespeare for his literature composition. The reason why he didn't want to use the school's vast library was because he couldn't face being where Damien was going to be or somebody coming up to him asking if he knew where Damien was. He was lost in his thoughts and didn't realize that he bumped into someone and their books went all over the floor.

"I'm sorry..." He looked up; she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

She had long blonde hair and light blue eyes. There was something very familiar about her.

"Hello."

He was the most beautiful young man she had ever seen. She knew exactly who he was.

"Hello, Mark Thorn."

"How do you know me?" He picked up her books for her and extended his hand to help her off the floor.

"Everyone knows the Thorn family."

There was something very familiar about him.

"And you are?"

"Vanessa Greenhill."

"Well, hello, Vanessa Greenhill..." He almost forgot that he was ten pounds overweight and had to deal with his overbearing and bordering on arrogant cousin."Would you like to go to the café across the street?"

"Sure."

They put their library books on the side table and left together.

* * *

**Café that caters to mostly teens and young adults **

"What time do you have to go back to school, Vanessa?"

"I'm staying at home right now. There was some kind of water main break so all of us had to make alternate plans. What time do you have to go back to the academy?"

She stirred her soda with her straw.

"In an hour."

They didn't get much free time, but when they did Mark wanted to get as far away from Davidson as he could.

"Oh." She sighed disappointingly.

If her parents saw her with a boy she'd be in huge trouble. The rule was nada until she was sixteen – granted, that was only a month away, but a rule was a rule.

"I was going to look you up." She admitted after the second soda. She explained that her and her family moved back to Illinois after years of living in Manhattan.

"You were?"

It surprised him as every girl seemed to have wanted or preferred Damien over him.

"Yeah. Don't be so surprised, Mark. I think you are adorable."

He blushed. Mark's flush quickly turned to an unexplained nervousness when Damien walked in with George and Ryan.

"Mark, you were supposed to be at the library!" Damien playfully scolded his cousin.

Vanessa seemed to jump out of her skin.

"Looks like Mark Thorn has got himself a little crush!" George chided.

Ryan sat down on one of the stools almost glad that he was gay and didn't have to worry about being picked on for being with someone in public.

"I think I better go." Vanessa tried to whisper in Mark's ear; she could feel Damien's hot breath on her neck. She quickly wrote her phone number on a napkin and ran out of the restaurant as fast as she could.

"What was that all about?" Mark felt an anger rise to the surface.

"Nothing." Damien stated as he sat down where Vanessa was not two minutes ago.

"Come on, Thorn, can't you take a joke?" George quipped.

"She's a cute girl." Ryan added sitting next to Mark in the booth.

"Now what would you know about that, Kelly?!" Damien laughed.

So much for his new found self-esteem as Mark proceeded to order the biggest ice cream sundae on the menu; he suddenly hated himself and wondered what could Vanessa Greenhill possibly see in him?

_He was starting to have different feelings about Damien and what perplexed him the most was the eternal question of why?_

* * *

**Three days later after the Thorn Industries field trip where all the boys got sick**

**Thorn Estate**

**Damien and Mark's Bedroom**

_Sorry Sgt., but sometimes, there indeed was a time for showing off._

Not that Damien was actually sorry.

"Come on, Mark, you can't still possibly feel sick!" Damien was already out of bed and dressed, doing jumping jacks to prove for no other reason that he could.

"How come nothing's wrong with you?" Mark moaned into his pillow.

"I guess I'm just stronger than the rest of you guys!"

There was a knock on their door.

"I don't want to talk to anyone."

Mark felt like he was going to be sick again.

Damien opened the door and Vanessa thought she was going to drop the flowers. "Are you sure you don't want any visitors, Mark?"

Damien thought he should just slam the door in her face. There was something about her that he did not like. Mark turned around and saw Vanessa standing there wearing a blue dress with a matching blue hair ribbon.

"Can you give us some privacy, Damien?" He tried to sit up.

Damien thought about it. "Sure, after you, Vanessa." He used a forced politeness like how he and Mark used to deal with their stodgy Aunt Marion.

**_They took care of her, just like journalist Joan Hart, Atherton, Parisian, and Dr. Kane…..all for him._**

Vanessa's body tensed up, as she had to pass Damien to get to Mark. His green eyes sizing her up for a future unknown reference. She waited for Damien to close the door behind him before talking.

"How are you, Mark? I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner."

"It's all right, Vanessa." He motioned for her to sit next to her. She put the flowers in an empty crystal Waterford vase that was on his side table.

"I was so worried when I heard…"

"Ssh..." He held her hand. "I'm okay."

"Everybody got sick except for Damien?"

"Yeah. I can't figure it out. Mom says we should all be grateful that he's okay."

"Mark, don't take offense, but I find your cousin to be arrogant, insufferable, and a generally rude person."

Mark and Vanessa didn't even get to go on "proper date" yet, between her at her private Catholic girls school and him at the military academy all they had were stolen moments on the telephone and on their free time from conformist establishments to go out for a quick bite to eat. Richard had "the talk" with Damien and Mark when they were thirteen about "respecting women". He still felt like a drunken sailor on shore leave when he leaned in and kissed her. It was the first kiss for the both of them.

"I love you." Mark admitted out loud, he knew it the day he bumped into her at the library.

"I love you, too." She smoothed the hair out of his eyes.

"I think we're going to have to get around your parents rules, 'Nessa."

She smiled. The both of them remembered at exactly the same time why they were both so familiar to each other.

**Flashback**

**Upper Class Daycare **

"How old are you sweetie?" Asked the young waif to the little girl who was the teacher's aide.

"Four!"

"You want to play and make a new friend?"

She nodded, smiling

A little blond haired boy was seated at his tiny kid-sized table coloring in his book.

"Mark, this is Vanessa."

"Hi. Would you like to color, 'Nessa?" His mother Mary laughed that he couldn't pronounce her name.

He handed her a purple crayon and a coloring book.

"Yeah. How old are you, Mark?"

"Four!" He announced just as proudly as she did.

"Be careful, son. This is how they reel you in." Richard joked kissing his wife.

"Aren't they adorable?" Mary hoped that she could get pregnant again so Mark would have a sibling.

A brother would be nice.

"I told Robert that we cannot make Damien's birthday party this year." Richard stated.

At that moment, Vanessa even at four-years-old could color inside the lines, but for reasons she wouldn't understand until much later, at the mere mention of Damien's name her crayon went harshly outside the lines.

**Back to Current**

"You were my playmate!" Vanessa exclaimed blocking out the parts about Damien.

"It's a small world you coming back into my life, Vanessa."

Mark felt better. His stomach was still a little unsettled but emotionally he felt like he could climb the highest mountain.

"Vanessa Marie Greenhill! What do you think you are doing here?"

Enter housekeeper and general nuisance to Vanessa's life Edwina Hollingsworth. Damien was behind her trying his best not to laugh out loud. He had nothing to do with it. Vanessa was very poor in covering her tracks.

Her eyes said "Mark". Her mouth said, "This is hardly a date Miss Hollingsworth. Mark is sick."

"Say goodbye to Mark. You know you are not supposed to be with boys until you are sixteen or unless your parents are present."

Vanessa wanted to scream. She was almost of age! This was so embarrassing. Her parents were liberal and helped everyone else on the planet, but hardly gave their only daughter any real freedoms.

"Goodbye, Mark." She kissed him on the cheek; let Miss Hollingsworth tell her parents! She just did not care anymore.

"Bye, Vanessa."

"Did you two kiss?" Damien teased, after he closed the door.

"Shut up, Damien! I'm not supposed to nose around in your life, but you are allowed to poke yours in mine?"

"Something like that."

"Don't you have some place to go?" All of a sudden Mark felt ill again and sank down into his bed wishing Vanessa was still here by his side.

"Yeah, tonight. George and I are going to the Blackhawks game."

He had to go home due to a family emergency and missed the field trip to Thorn so he avoided being involved in the accident.

"Good."

"So do you love her?"

"That's NONE of your business." Mark replied, putting the covers over his head.

"Oh, Mark," Damien sighed, "Never, ever, tell them you love them. She's going to make your life miserable."

Mark felt like replying, "You mean like you do?" But for some reason he refrained.

He just fell back to sleep dreaming of what life would be like with Vanessa but without Damien as the world watched.


	3. Only One Has a Heart

**Chapter 3**

**Only One Has a Heart**

**Flashback**

**Unnamed private school - 6th grade level**

The sun peeked through the windows of the empty classroom. It was one of those too-nice-to-be-cooped-inside days but it was three-fifteen in the afternoon and everyone was dismissed except for the boy with the dirty blond hair and blue eyes who had to stay after school due to needing extra help in math.

"Mark Thorn," His teacher got up from her desk, she was a stern looking forty-year-old, with dark eyes, her brunette hair with gray flecks in a conservative bun, "Do you enjoy wasting time?"

"No, ma'am."

He stopped looking at the clock and focused on his extra credit assignment. His father said if he didn't bring home a 'B' in this class he was going to have to get a private tutor during the summer. Richard Thorn didn't want to take Mark's summer camp away he just wanted him to have the best education possible. Damien got straight ''A's' while Mark's math grades were a solid, respectable 'C' average, which would have been good if your last name was Kozlowski and you worked at the steel mill in Pittsburgh, not when your last name was Thorn.

The reason why Mark was fidgeted and looked at the clock was not just because of the springtime weather it was because of what happened in the schoolyard at lunch today between Damien, the two Masters brothers who were fraternal twins Aaron and Andrew, and their partner-in-crime Christopher Williams. They more than hinted at wanting to get him after school. Most of the boys didn't want to be dropped off and picked up in fancy limousines, they wanted to run and explore like normal kids. Richard relented after Ann suggested that it would be "Good for the boys." The school was on the outskirts of town and they could walk to the huge Thorn skyscraper in downtown Chicago and from there Murray could take them home. Or if they really wanted to play Christopher Columbus for the day they could walk the whole way home, which wasn't long at all when you were an eleven-year-old boy full of energy. Mark asked Damien to wait for him when he was done with his extra math advised Mark not to worry. Mark wasn't sure. Three against one are terrible odds.

Damien walked at a slow pace on the road, the sun hitting his striking face. He was in no hurry to get back home. Despite his good grades, he hated doing homework or any other monotonous task. He was caught off guard by a huge rock thrown at his back. He swiftly turned around.

"Show your face."

He commanded like stone. Just like an old black and white spaghetti western movie on television Aaron Masters was on the right to Damien on the hill, Andrew to the left and Christopher right in front of him down a few paces.

"Let's see how tough you are now, Thorn." Andrew shouted.

It was a good spring day for a fight.

Mark didn't care if he got the last three problems right or not he just wanted to catch up to Damien. He swiftly gave his teacher the remainder of his work and did not care if he got reported for doing so, he left school without being properly excused. Two against three were much better odds. He ran as fast as he could go.

If Damien needed him he would always be there.

* * *

**Davidson Military Academy  
Five years later – back to current**

"Are you sure it's okay?" A girl from the all-girls Catholic school giggled in the boys shoulder as they were on one of the back stairwells.

There was a school dance in progress and you could hear the thumping sound of the bass and drums from below in the ballroom.

"Of course." The boy boasted as if he owned the school.

"You should hear what the other girls say about you," she baited.

He knew what they said, loving all the adoration.

"What do they say?" He faked the curiosity.

"They all want to screw you!" He wondered why she was telling him this? Was it because she harbored the "it'll be different with me" fantasy?

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow, not that she could see, as she was behind him and the stairwell was only dimly lit.

"Where did Damien go?" Mark handed Vanessa a crystal cup filled with punch.

"You didn't notice? He and Christine went off together."

Andrew Masters was behind Vanessa talking to his date when he heard "little birdie Vanessa Greenhill" share that nugget of information.

"I'm beginning to think men can be whores too." Mark replied in a candor that he didn't even know he had.

The music started up again, the safe generic sounds that pleased the wealthy and mostly conservative parents.

"You want to sit this one out?"

She put her cup down on the table next to her.

"Not a chance Mark. I'd keep you on the dance floor forever."

* * *

They were just starting to thrash their wild young bodies around, undressing each other as the door to the upstairs laundry room opened up sharply and the light was put on to blind their eyes.

"Well, well, well, who is in here trying to get some pussy?"

"What in the hell?" When Christine realized that it was another boy she started to button her dress. She sat on the washing machine watching Damien and Andrew size up each other.

Damien and Andrew rarely saw each other at school as they were in different platoons.

To Andrew it didn't matter to hurt the bastard until tonight. The fifth anniversary of his brothers death.

"Looking for a fight, Masters?" Damien questioned first.

"You think you are just fucking IT don't you, Damien Thorn? You think this whole school and probably the whole world REVOLVES around you. I kicked your ass five years ago, I can do much worse now."

"I'm not the same being that I was five years ago."

"True. You're even more unbearable now; I don't know why all the girls want to fuck you, it's probably just to get a shot at your money. No, wait, that's your Uncle's money, right? And even your nerd of a cousin has got a stake in that, too."

Damien walked towards Andrew who due to the small size of the room was backed into a corner. His eyes wicked. Andrew couldn't lift his arm to punch Damien, it was as if he were paralyzed. Damien picked him up by his collar, Andrew's feet were raised an inch off the ground. "Are you looking for a fight?" Damien asked Andrew again, his words pointed.

Andrew was scared but didn't want to show it.

Out of the corner of his eye Damien noticed Christine ready to run away. He violently threw Andrew against the window where he fell to the floor shaking.

"Christine," He ran after her, turning her around by the shoulder "Don't go. I took care of him."

His lustful urges won over the need for vengeance for the time being.

"I don't want to be involved in your..."

He turned her around and tongue-kissed her pulling her close to him.

"Hmm, all right, Damien. Do you know of any other secret places to get laid here in this school?"

"Sure do. The bathroom."

That had exciting possibilities to Christine and she was having Damien Thorn before Charlotte The Harlot! She couldn't wait to brag about that tonight at one in the morning when the potato chips, soda, and candy bars came out with the rest of the giggling teenage girls in their dorm with their faces covered in blue beauty masks and hair in pink foam curlers.

Damien saw a light on from underneath his and Mark's door; he escorted Christine to the bathroom and went to see who was in there. It was his friend Ryan Kelly.

"Please, Damien, I want you so bad. Do you know what it's like when there's a school dance and you're gay in a military academy?"

He cried lying on Damien's bed, his scent on the pillowcases.

"Do you want to experiment with me and Christine?" Damien's mind flexed.

"No."

"Your loss, Kelly. Jerk off in your own bed then. I'm busy tonight."

Ryan's eyes welled up with tears, he stood up face to face with Damien, their shadows profiled on the wall from the dim lights. "It's not only the girls who want you." He kissed him briefly on the lips and placed his hand on his ass. "Remember that."

As if the confession didn't affect him at all Damien said a quick "Goodnight" to Ryan and then turned his back on him to rejoin Christine.

"Goodnight, Vanessa." Mark kissed her on the lips and was always respectful of where he put *his* hands.

"In my office now!" Sgt. Neff yelled at Damien and Christine, their clothes wrinkled as they walked down the stairs to the gawks and stares of the other cadets and their dates.

Vanessa laughed, it was about time Damien Thorn got his comeuppance! "He deserves it, Mark!"

"I love you. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Of course."

She kissed him on the cheek before heading back to her school with the girls she came with.

Mark was torn between waiting outside Neff's office or going upstairs to his room. He was really in no mood to hear this tale.

"Pass the gauntlet, Thorn, if you want to go upstairs to your room!" Andrew commanded to Mark.

"Let me pass." He wasn't afraid of throwing a punch, but he saw how Damien handled things, and he wanted to always try to talk it out first.

"You Thorn's are something else." Andrew had a group of about five friends with him who made the chain on the stairwell.

"LET HIM PASS," Damien's voice seemed to enter the room before he did, "I'll ask you again, Masters. Since you seem to have a fucking hearing problem. Are you looking for a fight?"

The other boys broke the chain nothing said loving like a rumble in a school. Apparently Andrew ignored Damien's "friendly" warning in the laundry room earlier. Damien's eye caught the flyer on the sidewall for tomorrow's swim meet and dive competition.

"Tomorrow after school."

He walked up to Damien until they were almost nose-to-nose "Too afraid to do it now, Thorn? You really are pathetic. You are all talk and no action."

Damien could smell the beer on his breath.

"I'm not afraid of you."

The two exchanged a few more dirty looks, Andrew's neck slightly tingling, when he and his friends went up to their quarters on the opposite side of where Damien and Mark's were.

His cousin ran up to him.

"You're not going to really fight Andrew are you? He's just trying to wind you up."

"He's messing with the wrong one. Did you get past second base with Vanessa?" Damien ribbed his cousin.

Mark wouldn't mind getting a few punches in on Damien himself.

* * *

**Catholic girls school**

"Wait until Vanessa comes back, she'll love this!" One of the girls took out a secret flask of vodka.

"Shut up! I can't believe all of you. Big deal." Vanessa threw herself on her bed.

"Are you ever going to let Mark touch you?"

"That's not your business!"

"She's waiting for the ring!" Another girl teased her.

"You better not too wait too long, Tracey has a crush on him." She was on a trip with her parents and wasn't here for this late night gossip session.

"I find that hard to believe since you all fantasize about Damien."

"Where is Christine?" Charlotte couldn't stop laughing.

"Getting chewed out by Sister Agnes." Replied one of the other girls putting thick white cream on her face.

"You are all so immature." Vanessa added.

"Pardon us. You think you are above us, sometimes, Vanessa because you are the good girl. Well you know what happens to good girls? Nothing. They become spinsters and wonder where their youth went."

"I like to know what I did to you all?"

Vanessa sighed. She wasn't going to have sex with Mark when she wasn't ready just to get the approval of her classmates of which more than half were NOT her real friends at all. The only girl she really liked was named Megan whose parents refused to let her live in the dorms. Her father and mother were successful surgeons, who probably didn't want her to live here for reasons such as this.

"Here she comes!" The freshman who was ordered to look out announced.

Vanessa turned over, she didn't want to be involved in this, but she knew she was going to be.

"So what happened with the Sister? Were you kicked out of school?"

Before Christine could answer, Charlotte got into her face

"You are so stupid! Never, ever fuck on school property!"

"Who caught you?" Another one asked who wanted to be a reporter when she grew up.

"Andrew Masters."

"Had him last year, he was terrible. Typical pure upper class jock type." Charlotte stated.

"Charlotte you had almost the whole Academy!"

Vanessa tried blocking her ears.

"I think he's cute."

"Really? I think he's a dog. Damien is way cuter!" Another girl shot out.

"That was the first time." Christine accepted the fact that she was going to have to tell the whole story, she took a healthy drink of the illicit vodka that was being passed around.

"So, tell us from the beginning." One of the girls kicked Vanessa to make her sit up.

"And you're not leaving the room, Greenhill. I bet you have secret fantasies about Damien. It's probably why you won't fuck Mark!"

"Shut up!" She wanted to cry. That was not true.

"Leave her alone." Charlotte briefly came to Vanessa's defense.

"Do you want to hear or not?" Christine questioned.

"I don't know why this is of interest to everyone. You two didn't get very far, and you had two chances, what a dumb bitch you are." Charlotte replied as she waited for Christine to slap her across the face. She did not.

"Damien asked me if I wanted to go upstairs."

Vanessa's stomach turned. Mark was right. Men could be whores.

"And, of course, you said yes." Vanessa whined.

"We were just about to get at it in the upstairs laundry room and Andrew came in looking to fight Damien. It was weird; I never knew how strong Damien was before, the way his eyes looked and he practically had Andrew off the floor. Well, I didn't want to be witness to a fight that had nothing to do with me and have to explain it to the staff so I started to leave. Damien stopped fighting Andrew for ME..."

Vanessa mentally rolled her eyes, _Damien does NOT do things for other people, he does them for himself._

Christine continued, "Then he French kissed me. So we went looking for another place as we both wanted it so bad. My whole body felt like it was electrically charged, I can only imagine what penetration would have felt like…"

"Get to the rest so we can go to bed." Vanessa did take a piece of chocolate that was being passed around. She seriously thought about asking her parents if she could stay at home, she was sick and tired of always being reminded about Damien's presence. She knew Mark was as well. He was the unspoken reason why Mark didn't want to work at Thorn Industries when he graduated university. He and Vanessa had plans to go to school far, far away where Damien wouldn't be, so they could get married and have kids like young couples were supposed to do.

"Why? You don't even masturbate Vanessa." Charlotte said to her, coming back to her senses.

"Can I continue? We figured no one would bother us in the shower stall. Damien doesn't believe in foreplay which I feel is overrated anyway," She looked at Vanessa who tried to hide her tears, "He's rough, but in a good way, I was just about to….."

"If you can't say the words how can you expect us to believe it?" Charlotte said.

Vanessa was sick to her stomach. The thought of anyone having sex with Damien was disgusting to her. It really pulled at her. She couldn't explain it. She didn't get the attraction. It made her ill, it made her skin crawl. An attractive face had to hide a devious mind. _He was not what he seemed._

"I was going to give him a blow job, Charlotte. There are you happy?"

"It's not about whether or not I'm happy."

"How big is he?" A girl in the back squealed.

Vanessa turned pale. She felt like she could be ill at any minute.

"I didn't bring a ruler."

"Too big and too hard for you," Christine replied, watching Vanessa's face turn, "Are you okay? Is this too graphic for you, honey?"

"Shut up! Just finish your story."

"Yeah!" A bunch of girls demanded.

"There's not much to tell. Someone must have seen us and the next thing you know we were taken to Sgt. Neff's office getting grilled. Then I had to wait for Sister Agnes to come pick me up. I think a part of her was jealous."

"Oh, please! Get real." Vanessa replied.

"It doesn't count until you have intercourse or at least oral sex." Charlotte was very organized about that, she kept scrapbooks and detailed accounts with all the men she had encounters with.

"Bed check!" Another freshman look out came into the room and bunch of girls scattered so they could quickly get rid of the booze, cigarettes, and even the chocolate would have given Sister Agnes a heart attack.

When everyone was silent pretending to be asleep, Vanessa silently cried her eyes out wishing that Mark was there to hold her.

* * *

**Next Day  
Swim Meet**

Davidson housed an impressive gymnasium. It was actually two stories. On the bottom level was an almost Olympic sized indoor swimming pool.

Damien didn't bother to change into casual clothes after class he just put his books on his desk and went to the gym in his slow, confident walk.

Andrew was self-assured and during lunch told his friends he was going to "put Damien in the hospital" after he finished his entry in the diving competition.

He entered as soon as the timekeeper announced "Andrew Masters'" name into the microphone in a billowing evening news anchor type voice that echoed throughout the gym.

Damien clasped his hands behind his back. As if the whole room was in slow motion, Damien noticed the raven high up on top of the window sill. He walked past the bleachers slowly as if he were looking for the perfect seat, his eyes intent on Andrew on the diving board.

When he got to the end of the bleachers on the other side, Andrew was on transfixed on the diving board. His body was trembling as if he were on uppers, which was not the case. Andrew never noticed how high up on the platform he was before. His father's excel at all costs speech played over and over again in his head. He awkwardly attempted to dive in the pool, hitting his head so harshly on the board the whole room heard it crack and as he fell into the water.

Damien smiled softly on the inside and left the gym as the raven spread its wings and flew away.

When Mark entered the room, Damien was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans doing his homework at a normal pace, to appear as a normal kid.

"Damien!"

"What, Mark? You look like you are going to explode." Damien popped a piece of hard candy in his mouth.

"Did you hear?"

"Hear what? I've been here doing my homework."

"It's Andrew, whom you were supposed to fight today."

"The coward never showed up."

"He's dead! His head hit the diving board hard and he died before hitting the water."

"Really?" Damien questioned matter-of-factly.

"It's so terrible. I know we didn't get along with him, but for him to die..."

That was where Mark and many others showed their hypocrisy Damien thought.

"I'm going outside for a smoke behind the school. Want to come?"

Mark could not believe his cousin. "No, Damien." He sighed as he sat on his bed,he was too tired to argue and also too exhausted to take off his uniform.

"Mark, you shouldn't frown like that. Your face will stay that way."

Damien smiled before closing the door behind him.

"Did you see?" A fellow cadet cornered Damien when he got outside.

"What?"

"That dick Masters that you were supposed to fight today…HE DIED! Some freak diving board accident."

In the distance Damien saw police cars at the deans residence.

"I know. Mark told me." Damien took a drag on his cigarette. He thought of Mark, he didn't smoke, didn't even touch booze, even when it was "acceptably okay" like at the holidays. Did he think that made him better?

"He was an excellent diver; he was going to the regionals again."

"You know what they say - accidents will happen." Damien commented wryly as he moved on.

"I'm sorry, I thought Damien was in here..." Mark looked up at Ryan Kelly. He appeared forlorn like his puppy just died.

"No, he's not. Are you okay? You can stay here and wait for him." Mark was getting tired of doing his work and needed a break. He didn't mind the company.

"Does Damien have feelings for Christine?"

Oh! Mark knew what this was about.

"Probably not. Can I be frank with you?"

"Of course, Mark."

"Everyone at school knows that you are gay. That doesn't bother me, but if you think Damien-he's a male whore. That's really what he is. He will hurt you. You should look elsewhere for companionship."

"I'm not looking for a serious relationship."

"It doesn't matter, he'll use you just the same."

Damien overheard the entire conversation. He turned away, he would deal with Mark later.

"Damien, we received a surprise today in the mail." Mark said to him after supper.

"What's that?"

"Our allowances."

"What's so surprising about that?" He slammed his history book shut.

"There's two hundred dollars more than usual. Why do you suppose we got more?"

Damien really didn't feel like explaining things that were so obvious to him that he couldn't believe Mark couldn't, or wouldn't, notice.

"Mark, may I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Damien." Mark sat on his bed, counting all the money in a neat stack. Three hundred. He didn't even think of anything he needed at the moment. He only thought of what he could buy for Vanessa.

"What did you say about me earlier?"

"About you?" Mark put the money back in the envelope and in his school binder.

"Are you going to deny talking about me?" Mark said nothing so Damien continued "At five o'clock you weren't telling Ryan Kelly in this very room that I'm a user and a whore?" He asked Mark as if he were a trial lawyer.

Mark looked surprised, "You overheard that?" Part of him wanted to apologize, the other part of him confirmed it. "Don't you think that he deserves to know the truth about you?"

"The truth about me…" Damien thought about the unknown irony to Mark in that entire sentence. "Since when do you know what goes on in my head?"

"Are we going to fight?"

"You're the one who started it. Instead of just saying it to my face."

"If you weren't caught last night you would've had your way with Christine last night. Did you even talk to her today?"

"She could've picked up a telephone."

Damien didn't know why he was arguing with him when he could've just thrown him out the window or pecked at his brain. Yet, he did love…or thought…he could love…_**he really didn't want to hurt his cousin.**_

"Damien, I accept the fact that we view the world differently, but can't just go on hurting people. That's wrong."

"Yes, Saint Mark," Damien replied sarcastically, "Just because you won't fuck your girlfriend does **NOT** give you the right to judge me!"

"Don't you get…."

"Into your business?! Oh, it's different when it's Mark and Vanessa, the two virgins!"

Mark stood up to face Damien. "How dare you!"

"No, how dare **YOU!**"

They weren't going to let Damien hurt him. Damien took a small comfort in knowing he'd be getting Mark for all of this at a later date. How many chances could he give him? If he wasn't loyal, he was going to have to go, simple as that. There was too much at stake.

"You can be such a mother fucking jerk!" Mark was shocked when the words actually came out of his mouth.

"Fuck you, Mark!" Damien punched him in the face; Mark fell backwards and hit his head on the wall. When he did not get up, Damien went up to him. He had a pulse but was out cold. "Someday, Mark, you and the whole world, will know the truth about me." Damien stated over his body with contempt in his voice. He took his own money envelope and put it in his back pocket and left the room.

He was certain if anybody found Mark, he would not snitch. All he had to do was remain loyal to him and nothing would happen.

* * *

**One Hour Later  
The almost empty teen cafe**

Damien advised Neff not to get his pants in a knot, that there was a valid reason why Mark left the grounds of the academy. It would be okay. What was _not okay_ was him running to that high-horse bitch Vanessa.

"You're quiet, Mark. Are you all right?"

They sat in their private spot where no one would bother them. It wouldn't have mattered since this evening was a school night, there was hardly anyone here except for some older 'kids' from the universities.

"No..." he felt his head, it still hurt, "Damn him."

"What did Damien do to you?" Vanessa knew it could be no one else.

"We had words and he punched me. I must have been out cold for a while."

"Are you all right?"

She hated Damien Thorn so much and someday she was going to tell him exactly how much.

"This? I'll be fine. If you are referring to my relationship with Damien, My Dad said something about business clients who turn on him, once you cross the line; it's never quite the same. Damien and I crossed that line. It will never be right between us again."

And yet, even now, he still had conflicted emotions where he did want to love his cousin, they were still family, after all. He put his head on her shoulder. Tonight was the night that he needed comforting.

"Do you want to go back to school?" Vanessa who broke her own schools rules to meet up with her boyfriend as well. Sister Agnes would have had another fit of repressed rage if she got caught.

"No, let's just stay here for a while to look at the stars from the window." Mark replied uncertain of the future.

**After**

Mark took off his watch. It really pissed him off on how content Damien was asleep in his bunk. After the café Mark and Vanessa went on one of their long walks and talked some more.

He felt empty inside, almost hallow. He couldn't explain it. That fight with Damien played over and over again in his mind. It really angered him that Damien was sleeping so soundly. He wanted to reach for his bugle, go up to his ear, and have him hit the ceiling. He didn't want to ever fight with Damien. He didn't understand the resentment he felt towards his cousin. They used to get along so well.

He got undressed in the dark and put his pajamas on and went to his bunk to try and get some sleep.

* * *

**Later **

Damien got out of the bed after twenty minutes before locking the door and making sure the shades were drawn as he silently called on his Father for guidance.

Mark thought he was dreaming when he felt someone kissing his neck. It took him awhile to realize where he was and who was kissing him.

"Damien! What do you think you are fucking doing?"

"Ssh, Mark," He put his hand inside his inner thigh, "Tell me that's for Vanessa and I'll stop."

"What do you think you are doing?" He couldn't help, but to repeat himself, he was in shock.

Damien unbuttoned Mark's pajama top. "If that were true, you would have stopped me by now. Ssh. I hate it when we fight." Damien kissed his chest as Mark got harder.

Damn! It wasn't for Vanessa! The tears of regret and shame started to flow.

"I'm sorry, Damien. I don't like fighting with you, I don't know what it is," Damien smoothed Mark's hair from his eyes, "I've always been jealous of you. You're more intelligent, popular, not only do all the girls want you, but so do some of the boys. I do love Vanessa, _but my love for you is more complete._ I didn't mean all those things that I said, Damien. I'm really, really sorry." Mark kept his voice to a pointed whisper.

Damien wiped his tears away with his soft hand.

"Will you just hold me?" Mark requested.

Damien kissed Mark on the lips and cuddled him in his strong arms without saying another word.

It was Damien who felt betrayed when a crack of thunder echoed from the night sky and with that his eyes sprung open.

_Damn._

It was only a dream.

_Father, Mark, won't betray me, he won't. I will personally see to it._


	4. Wheels in Motion

**Chapter 4**

**Wheels in Motion**

**Entire flashback chapter**

**A few months before Robert Thorn attempted to kill Damien.**

**Chicago, IL**

**Estate of Richard and Mary Thorn**

The rain started to break and the sun appeared through the clouds around 10:16 in the morning as Mary Thorn sat at her desk in the master bedroom. She decided to put her blonde hair in a casual ponytail for the day and with her silver Cross* pen she put a single line through the Hair Appointment with Annie entry. She was waiting for an important phone call as she thought about wearing her purple Ralph Lauren sweater and jeans or her black wrap dress that were both laid out on the bed in front of her. She instinctively made sure her silk robin's egg blue colored robe was fastened when she heard a knock on her door.

"Come in."

The thirty-year-old-man removed his hat before speaking, "I don't mean to disturb you, Mrs. Thorn."

"It's all right. What do you need Murray?"

"I'm reminding you that I cannot drive you on your errands today. I have to pick up Mr. Thorn from the airport."

"That's okay. I'll take my car. I'll only be gone for a short while."

She really didn't want to leave her son.

"Is Mark feeling any better?"

"The last time I checked his fever broke."

"That's good to hear." Murray started to turn on a dime and leave the room.

"By the way, Murray, did you get make sure my brakes got fixed?"

"Yes, Mrs. Thorn. The invoice is in your glove compartment. It was put on your American Express."

She didn't want it billed to Thorn Industries when it was not a business expense to get her car repaired.

"Thank you. Janet doesn't seem to be answering the intercom, can you make sure she comes up in an hour to give Mark his medicine?"

"Of course. Have a nice day." Murray closed the door behind him.

Mary was going to dial the number herself in the next five minutes if the phone did not ring. She was hoping for the most wonderful news.

She opened up her heart shaped ceramic box and took out a sapphire blue velvet pouch and opened up the flap and gently took out the gold cross pendant. It was a gift from Richard when they were dating. It was in the Thorn family for at least four generations.

The clasp broke when she wore it playing doubles tennis at a country club in London. It seemed like ages ago since she saw her brother-in-law Robert and his wife, Katherine. She was going to have to make it a point to phone Katherine since the letters she wrote went unanswered. Katherine assumed she was just as busy raising her own son. Damien looked so sweet in his pictures. She couldn't wait for Mark to meet Damien someday.

She wanted Mark to have this cross to give to his future soulmate.

Her faith was very important to her and she wanted her son to be raised in the way she and her husband were. She was ready to put on the dress as it was easier when the phone finally rang.

"Hello? Yes? I'll be there in forty minutes. Thank you." She smiled brightly as she hung up the receiver.

* * *

Mary went in Mark's room. She thought this space was certainly big enough for two. It could work out quite nicely

She always thought that this house was too big. Why did they need to live in such a lavish estate? She let it go as she loved her husband and like the cross, it was a piece of Thorn history. As her Mother told her ages ago, you had to pick your battles.

"Honey, are you still sleeping?" She picked up his stuffed rabbit off the floor and put it in the crook of his arm.

"No, Mommy."

"Are you feeling better?"

"A little."

"Janet is going to give your medicine while I'm out shopping. Okay?"

"Okay. I'll miss you Mommy."

Mary kissed Mark on the cheek and gave him a hug. He would be back to running around and back to school in about two days.

"I love you, Mark – and Peter Rabbit too."

She tickled his nose with the plush ears.

"We love you too."

Yes. An addition would be wonderful and she was certain that Richard felt the same way as they talked about this topic before they even got married and then their Thorn family would be complete. Mary wiped a grateful tear of happiness off her cheek before she tucked Mark in bed again before leaving the house.

* * *

**Jewelry store not far from Thorn Industries**

A portly man of about fifty-five with a receding hairline held the gold chain in his hand from behind the counter.

"This is an easy fix, Mrs. Thorn. I can have this done by the end of the week."

"I'd rather you just mail it our house. I'm doing something special for my son. Do you have any stationery? I was in a hurry when I left the house that I forgot mine."

"I have just the thing, Mrs. Thorn. Why don't you come into my back office? You can use the embosser if you'd like."

"Thank you. I'd appreciate that, Norman."

It was important that each child feel special.

Mary had no problems putting a white-on-white embossed 'M' on the center of the paper stock, it reminded her of when she was little and had to write thank-you notes for people who attended her birthday parties or when relatives sent her clothes instead of the doll or other toys she wanted for Christmas. She took her fountain pen out of her purse and began to write.

_**Dearest Mark,**_

_**Today I am getting the confirmation about a new addition to our family. You won't remember that you have been sick with the flu. I want you to know that I love you and I know that you will be the most wonderful big brother. This cross has been in the Thorn family for generations. I hope that you will give this to the woman you love someday. **_

_**Faith is very important and I hope that during difficult times, although you should never be afraid to do so, if you don't ever want to speak to your Father or me for whatever reason– I hope that you will lean on your Bible and its comforting words. But I also hope that you find joy in the scriptures as well. Here is one of my favorites:**_

**_Deuteronomy 31:6** - Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the LORD thy God, he [it is] that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee._**

_**I will always love you, Mark.**_

_**Hugs and Kisses, **_

_**Mommy. **_

* * *

**Doctor's Office an hour later**

The young receptionist had better things to do than to wait on yet another wealthy pregnant mother, granted she was nicer than most, but they were still all the same at their entitled core.

The world did not need another trust fund baby. She pressed the red button on the bottom of the telephone. "Dr. Lowenthal, Mrs. Thorn is a no-call, no-show. Mrs. Dansbury is here to see you now."

* * *

**Outside downtown Chicago**

The powder blue Mercedes with the plate MTHORN -7 and its owner found themselves wrapped around a telephone pole as the Chicago city crowd looked on.

"Ma'am."

A ten-year-old boy in old clothes went up to the hairstylist who was caught off guard as she almost lost her footing by the row of parking meters.

"Please lower your voice." She replied in a hurried whisper.

"I got what you wanted." He handed her the only thing he could salvage without being caught. It was easy when you had to raise your four younger siblings by any means necessary.

"Here's twenty dollars. Now go away kid."

The boy didn't say 'thank you', he just took the money and ran off in the opposite direction of the police.

* * *

**Six hours later **

"Mommy…_where is Mommy_?" Mark cried in his Father's shoulder as Richard did his best to cradle his son in his arms.

Richard Thorn was in complete shock. The brakes had been fixed on Mary's car. She never should have been driving. He should have hired a rental car instead of having Murray pick him up at the airport.

_If only…_

How was he going to explain this to his five-year-old son? Richard tried not to crack his voice, "Your mother is in Heaven with the Angels." He would cry in bed later, but he would not do so in front of his son.

It would be a restless night for the both of them.

* * *

**Next Day**

**Headline of the **_**Chicago Sun-Tribune**_

_**Mary Thorn, Wife of Thorn Industries CEO Richard Thorn and sister-in-law to U.S. Ambassador Robert Thorn, Dies in Car Crash.**_

_**Story on Page 3. **_

* * *

And that was when she placed the call to his office.

* * *

*Brand of refillable ink pens

**King James Version


	5. The New Girl in Town

**Chapter 5**

**The New Girl in Town**

**1 Day Later from Chapter 3**

**Before Thanksgiving**

**November 18, 1978 **

It was a Saturday and Damien was up at five o'clock in the morning. On some nights he slept quite soundly and on other nights he couldn't sleep a wink.

On this particular day, he had too much excess energy in his body that he decided to go for a run. The Autumnal air was crisp, but he didn't mind it at all. The sun was starting to rise and from behind he could hear someone else catching up to him.

"Hi!" Exclaimed a girl about his Earthly age. She had dark hair and sapphire blue eyes.

"Hi."

"You don't mind a jogging partner do you?"

"No. Are you from around here?"

"Ask again later. Come on, Damien, I'll race you!"

As he ran, he thought to himself, 'how did she know my name'? He was definitely intrigued by this mysterious young woman who just happened to be outside at five-thirty in the morning, who also just happened to know his name. She was very pretty.

_Who was she though?_

"It was a draw!"

She called when they got to the top of the hill. When they finished she offered him some her water from her Army surplus store canteen.

"It was not a draw. _I won_. Are you going to tell me your name?"

There was something captivating about her. He didn't know what it was just yet.

"Maybe, "She put her hand through his sweaty hair arousing him, "tomorrow. Goodbye, Damien."

She sped down the hill before he could form a reply.

He took a cleansing breath and smiled as he ran back towards home for breakfast.

* * *

**Sunday/Same time**

Damien couldn't believe he was out here again and this time he didn't feel much like a morning run.

The dark-haired young girl was not around. He even used his mind to concentrate on the surrounding area just in case she was purposely hiding from him, but she wasn't.

He didn't quite like how she knew his name but he did not know hers.

Again he ran back home and after he had breakfast usually finishing before Mark arose. His relationship with him went back to their status quo after their fight.

He hated being cooped up in that boring mansion with nothing to do all day. Uncle Richard and Aunt Ann would-He put his hands on his hips as he watched the sun starting to rise going straight into the fall clouds. Ann. There was something about her lately. He supposed it would come to him.

He was just getting used to the idea on who he was and what that meant to the world.

* * *

**Hours Later**

**Teen café**

"What are you doing here, Damien?" George motioned for him to join him.

"I could also ask you that." Damien sat on the other side of him in the booth.

"Dad postponed our annual holiday trip to upstate Vermont. He made me come into the office with him today. He told me that corporate business knows no holiday. I sneaked out. He said it would all be mine someday. I'm sure your Uncle gives you that spiel too."

"I never thought about it. _(Until now that is.)_ I suppose it will." And for a brief moment Damien thought of what it would be like running Thorn Industries and what-if anything did it have to do with who he was? It had to be. There was no such thing as a coincidence. It probably explained Paul Buher's role.

"She keeps looking over here."

"Who?" Damien inquired.

He looked over and saw _HER - the mystery girl -_ trying to hide her face behind a menu.

"Excuse me," Damien said to George, "I'll be right back."

"No need to explain, Thorn."

Damien walked over to her booth and sat across from her, she put the menu up to her face as to playfully hide. Damien removed the obstacle from her hands.

"Hello, Damien." She said smiling.

"Hello."

At that very moment a bunch of other kids arrived. The ones who like Damien and George had families in the area and didn't leave for the Thanksgiving holiday and who were just going to spend the holidays at their respective lavish estates as well as the kids who were staying behind.

"Damien, I wondered where you went this morning." Mark entered.

"Mark," Damien sighed, "What are you doing here?"

"Vanessa and I are meeting each other." Damien missed the mystery girl roll her eyes over the mere mention of her name.

"Don't tell me you are going to start rebelling." Damien replied as if he were forty-years-old instead of fifteen.

"Rebel over what?"

"That's stupid, Mark." Damien offered his wisdom.

When Damien looked up she was gone. "Where'd she go?" Damien asked his cousin.

"Who?"

"The girl who was-never mind." Damien got up and went to rejoin George and some of the other local cadets. When the other boys were immersed in other topics of conversation George pointed to the stock room to indicate that was where the mystery girl ran off to.

"Why are you hiding from me?" Damien questioned, she was in the back room stocking the shelves as if she worked there.

"I'm not hiding."

"Do you work here?"

"Nah. I'm just helping old man Claymore out." She continued to stack the shelves.

"Look,"

"Damien, don't be stern," She put her hands on his shoulders and stood on tiptoe and placed a kiss right where his birthmark was and he knew she knew it was there. And what it meant.

Everybody was entering at the wrong time Damien thought.

"Thank you for the help." Enter Frederick Claymore who owned the hangout.

"You're welcome, Mr. Claymore."

"I should close during the holiday, but then where would you kids hang out?"

"I doubt that you would want to lose your profits." Damien replied, frustrated. She left again. Damien mentally rolled his own eyes when he heard Vanessa gushing to Mark.

"Hello, Vanessa."

Vanessa's body tensed up the way it always did when Damien was around her.

"Hello, Sage." Vanessa replied just as sarcastic.

Sage?

_She knew Vanessa? _

"Sage?" Damien said to her.

"Nice to meet you, Damien Thorn." In a gender reversed role she took his hand and kissed it.

A girl called out to her and she turned on her heels and went to their table, but not before giving Damien a wink and a smile.

He went back to his table of friends and he wondered who was this girl named Sage and what did she want with him?

_And how did she seem to know so much about him?_

Damien needed to make an important phone call.

He did say anytime day or night.

"Hello, Damien, what do you need?" Sgt. Neff was expecting his call.

"Do you know a young girl named Sage?" Damien called from the private phone in the back room. He told his platoon leader how she seemed to know personal things about him. What he did not expect was the Sgt. laughed, which made Damien just a bit irritated.

"I'm not laughing at you," Neff replied in a soft respectful voice, "Enjoy it."

Damien wondered if he should tell the Sgt. that he already had sex with that tense Mary Rose? Nah. It was none of his business.

"I would if I knew more."

"She doesn't sound like a problem."

"If you say so, Sgt." Damien didn't say goodbye, he just hung up.

Neff smiled, content that The Chosen One came to him for advice even if it was over such an inconsequential matter, he still came to him for advice, nonetheless knowing that as soon as Damien got comfortably confident with himself as a sexual being there would be many more surprises to come, he was living with the Whore of Babylon and didn't even know it, yet.

Let him enjoy his new little girl friend Neff thought as he went back to his afternoon coffee and mindless football on the television.

* * *

**Thorn Estate**

This was unbelievable, but in an arousing way to the soon to be sixteen-year-old that when Damien arrived home Sage was having a conversation with Jim the Caretaker of Thorn Manor.

"How did you get over the fenc-"

"It's okay, Jim." Damien winked and nodded sending him away.

Damien didn't know how they got there, but his ice-skates were at the ready perched up against a tree. "I see we made ourselves comfortable." For some reason, he wondered why he wasn't losing his cool with her? Did Father send her? She waited for him to put on his ice-skates before speaking.

"Come on, Damien," Sage threw him a hockey stick which he caught with one hand. "Get on the ice."

He admired her for not asking permission to be on Thorn property besides he was very aroused by this young girl named Sage and wanted to find out more about her and how she fit into his scheme of things.

"You know ice-hockey is the Thorn game of choice," He added gliding onto the ice stopping to an inch of her.

"That doesn't mean you are going to win."

"We'll see and I'm not going to make it easy for you just because you are of the opposite sex."

She laughed, "I don't expect you to."

While Mark and Vanessa sat in the warm, cozy café drinking cocoa and hoping no one would snitch to her parents that she wasn't spending the whole afternoon with a school pal, but was spending most of the afternoon looking into Mark's beautiful eyes as Damien and Sage were playing a beautifully violent thrashing game of ice-hockey on Thorn Lake.

"Are you tired?" Damien ribbed her.

"Don't even try that excuse, Thorn. 10 out of 20." Sage upped the ante.

"That's all?" Damien replied, neither one of them out of breath.

Both of them played their ice-hockey match well into the evening not stopping to either eat nor drink.

* * *

"Where's Damien?" Mark wondered at the dining room table.

"He's out on Thorn Lake with some young girl, playing ice hockey; they've been at it all day." Ann Thorn replied while her thighs pulsated in an inexplicable way.

"That's impossible, Ann." Richard grumbled. That was not humanly possible for either one of them to be outside all day playing a rough game such as ice-hockey and not stopping to eat or drink something.

"Dad, you haven't seen Damien in gym class." Mark added.

* * *

"Are you ready to stop?" Damien asked, Sage was starting to get out of breath, but didn't want to show it.

"You're leading, Thorn. But I'll surrender for now."

The sky was dark and the stars were trying to penetrate through the clouds. Sage threw her stick down.

"_I'm not going to surrender_, but we'll call this unfinished."

She couldn't believe the time. It was one o'clock this afternoon when they started.

"All right. Do you want to stay for dinner?"

"I suppose so," She skated towards him, "Good match, Thorn." She extended her hand for him to shake. It was firm, but not as strong as his grip.

He could have had his way with her on the ice if he wanted to, but she wasn't some pent-up niece of a man of the cloth, or the goody-two-shoes-saving-it-for-her-wedding night Vanessa Greenhill, there was something very different about this girl.

She was almost, but not quite, as no one could ever be on his level. By the time they got back to the main house everyone was done having dinner so they had the dining room to themselves.

It was the last time Damien Thorn thought he would see Sage.

However he would not see her again until his sixteenth birthday party.


	6. Secrets from the Vault

**Chapter 6**

**Secrets from the Vault**

**November 18, 1978**

**Saturday**

**_Author's Note: Follows the timeline from Chapter 5; this is just Mark's weekend POV instead of Damien's. Also I don't know what the weather really was like in Chicago in November of 1978, but I figured it would be cold enough for the lake to freeze over, so the air would still be crisp, but not below zero frigid._ **

How could Damien get up so early?

There must have been twenty calls for Damien last night when they arrived home, Mark stopped counting after about fourteen. It was bad enough there was required reading and other general homework on their Thanksgiving break from the academy that Mark wanted to get a head start on, but then to have their stupid phone ring every five minutes was just too much to take. What if Vanessa wanted to call him, or what if he wanted to take a break and phone her? No. Damien was _always_ on the phone and even if he managed to get straight A's in every subject, all of the time, it still bothered him to no end that Damien couldn't respect that he was studying and he could have used any of the number of telephones and some with their own lines in this house.

Mark knew the reasons for the phone activity. It was the Winter Formal dance coming up on Friday, December 22nd. Every girl at the Catholic school seemed to want to go with Damien and they all had the brilliant idea to call on Friday night to try and get his attention. He was surprised that there was even a dance in the first place (even if the Winter Formal was a tradition) considering the last joint one the schools had between Damien and Christine's tryst, plus him and Andrew Masters almost going at it and ended with the latter's mysterious death the next day.

The Davidson rumor mill was spinning that Andrew was experimenting with some kind of performance enhancing drugs, but that that did not make sense as to everyone that was there, he was perfectly fine until he attempted to dive off the diving board. Masters, like Teddy, might have a been a bully, but he didn't deserve to die in such an horrific way. Damien didn't seem to be affected by it. Whether it was the death of their Aunt Marion, boring as she might have been, he didn't seem to care that she had a heart attack. They witnessed Parisian's death when they took their field trip to Thorn Industries; Damien acted like that didn't matter either. When they found out Dr. Kane, who wanted to do _those tests_ on Damien, was the subject an horrific elevator accident that sliced him in half – again, everyone was shocked, thought it was terrible. His cousin didn't seem to care one bit.

Tired as he was, Mark stretched in his bed; this was the perfect opportunity to get this done, while Damien wasn't around to be in his personal business. Something was on the sixteen-year-old's mind and he hoped that his Father would say yes to. It's not like it cost any money. It was very important to him, but that didn't mean his request would go fulfilled.

His father could usually be counted on to be awake with a cup of black coffee and in his study before six in the morning to go over the mail and to make a list of the very important telephone calls for the day. Even though it was Saturday, he knew his Dad would want to clear the docket and have all the work done before the families extended Christmas holiday break.

They weren't going to Aspen or Vermont, which suited Mark just fine. He didn't need to go away from home just because his family was wealthy. Home really should have been good enough.

He really didn't care about Damien's feelings at the moment. He hoped that Vanessa's parents weren't dragging her somewhere for the holidays. She didn't know yet. Knowing the Greenhill family, Vanessa probably wouldn't know until the last minute.

He debated getting dressed and figured, if he wanted his Father to take his offer seriously, he didn't want to go down the stairs in messy hair and PJ's. It was better to take the extra time to take a shower and dress nice so for once someone could say 'yes' to him instead of his cousin. In business, according to his father, who told him and Damien once when they were twelve-years-old, and trying to work on a joint class project, it was all about the presentation. He hoped that he would make a good one.

_This was too important._

* * *

**Richard's Study  
**

Mark didn't know why he was so nervous. The light was on from underneath the door and no one else was around. Ann was still sleeping in the master bedroom, even the many live-in servants wouldn't be starting their shifts until about six in the morning. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in," His father said, not looking up from his stack of papers.

"Dad, it's me."

Richard took off his reading glasses and looked up, "Mark, what are you doing up so early on a Saturday?"

Mark didn't know whether if he should stay standing or sit down? He decided it was better to stand up.

"Um, I'd like to ask you for a favor…."

Richard smiled, "Okay…how much do you need?" He was ready to open up his desk drawer and take out his wallet.

"No, no, Dad. It's not about money. I don't need any."

"Son, what's on your mind? Is everything okay at school?"

_Damien's perfect. I'm not. _

"School's okay. Dad you are aware of my feelings for Vanessa?"

"I hope you are not thinking about proposing. You are way too young for that kind of commitment."

"Dad, I love Vanessa very much, and I do plan on proposing someday, but not yet. I would like to give Vanessa a very special gift for Christmas, and like I said, it's not about money, I just hope that you will say yes."

Richard was intrigued. "You're going to have to ask me first."

"You mentioned a few times about a cross that belonged to _my mother_….."

He also remembered her wearing it.

Richard's eyes went downcast for a brief moment. "Mark….."

Mark knew the story. It would be his cross to give to his soulmate, just like his father did many years ago when his mother was still alive.

She had taken the necklace to get repaired the day she died and the jeweler upon hearing the news, hand delivered it to his father. It unfortunately got boxed up and was in the bank vault with many of his mother's possessions that were too painful for Richard to keep around and how just now hit Mark like a ton of bricks when he overheard Ann say when she was engaged to his father, that his Mother's belongings should go in storage as being around them made her "uncomfortable."

"Please, Dad. Why would you want the tradition to stop with me?"

Because if Damien had wanted the cross, Richard probably wouldn't be debating the issue in his head right about now.

Richard sighed and opened up his top desk drawer with the key that was already inside it. He saw his wife's blue eyes in his sons and softened his stance.

"You are so much like your mother," he began and handed Mark the small black velvet pouch that contained the keys to the Thorn bank vault, "I love you."

Richard got up and hugged his son tight.

"Thanks, Dad, I love you too."

* * *

**Hours Later  
**

**Bank**

Mark sat on the bench in the vault room of Chicago National Bank and Trust* for what seemed like ten minutes, but when he looked at his watch, only two minutes went by.

He was escorted in here with no fuss as soon as he mentioned he was Richard Thorn's son and showed her the keys his Father had given him. This wouldn't have been Damien, not only would he have had no hesitation in asking for the keys he wouldn't be sitting here almost afraid to open the contents of Vault Number Seven. He took a deep breath and placed the key in the lock below the nameplate in silver that said R. THORN.

He didn't know where this cross could be, but he had all day. Vanessa was worth it. He stopped at a small box that was next to a painting of ballerinas at the barres, it contained his badges and uniforms from his short time in the Cub Scouts. How that seemed to stop when Damien came to live with them.

There were crates of photo albums and Mark wondered how come the unframed ones weren't in the house? There weren't that many photographs of them. He couldn't bring himself to look at any of the photos.

There was a small box that had Marion Thorn written in blue Magic Marker on the outside. He took a quick look; it only seemed to contain her soft red leather bound Bible. Mark was going to move on to another but instead felt compelled to open up the book. She was using a torn in half photograph as a bookmark. It was only of himself at thirteen-years-old when he and Damien entered the academy.

Why did she rip Damien out of the photograph? He knew she warned him once "to be careful" and seemed to think that Damien always pushed him around. The latter might have been true, in one of those, in an If-I-only-wish- I-knew-then-what- I- know-now kind of way, but Mark had no reason to be afraid of his cousin. He turned the photograph over to see his late aunt's scrawled writing.

_Separate the boys. Put them in different schools. _

He sighed and noticed that Aunt Marion underlined a verse in the book.

_Exodus 10:10** | _

_And he said unto them, Let the LORD be so with you, as I will let you go, and your little ones: look to it; for evil is before you._

Why did she hate Damien so?

There was _that thing_ that _the Thorn family NEVER discussed, about why his Uncle, former Quarterback for the academy and future American Ambassador, Robert Wade Thorn, wanted to KILL a five-year-old Damien._

There was a part of Mark's mind that wanted to pretend that wasn't reality, that the tragic event never could have even taken place, as if the more you DON'T talk about the past, the less real it was.

Was Aunt Marion as paranoid and delusional as Uncle Robert in their end days?

A loud crash from outside took Mark out of his thoughts. He went outside to investigate and found his friend and fellow cadet Benjamin Foster*** trying maneuver a metal trunk.

_Not everyone was perfection like Damien, yet no human, could be perfect. _

"Ben, it looks like you are having trouble."

"Hey, Thorn. I think it was a bad idea to try and bring the whole trunk out."

The lighting seemed better outside the vaults rather than in.

Mark helped his friend put the trunk back in the Foster family vault.

"What were you looking for?" Mark was raised to be polite, but then he thought he didn't want to say what he was looking for.

"My Dad's collection of baseball cards."

Mark kept the topic to would a New York Yankees mint DiMaggio be worth more than a pristine Mantle? Then he proceeded to ask his friend if he would help him find a box of his Mother's belongings and left it at that.

* * *

**About 1 Hour Later  
**

It took forty-five minutes for Mark and Benjamin to find a small box with M. Thorn written in the same blue Magic Marker that was used to label Aunt Marion's box. It was pushed in the back behind a set of golf clubs that belonged to his father. He knew this was the one.

"Thanks. I think I'll open this at home." Mark lied. He was going to open it as soon as his friend left.

"I have to go, Mark. My parents wanted me home a half-hour ago."

_You mean someone who respected rules and authority without acting overly entitled like world was theirs? _

"Okay." Mark was tired and sat on the bench, but not before he winced a bit and rubbed the sides of his head.

Damn. Did this have to happen in front of his friend?

"You okay, Thorn?" Benjamin inquired, putting stack of baseball cards that were fastened by a blue rubber band in his leather jacket pocket.

"Yeah. Sometimes I get headaches. Not a big deal," Mark took a deep breath, "See you back in school."

"Bye, thanks for the help."

"You too."

_You mean people are courteous?_

Mark opened up the box. He wasn't going to cry. He didn't want to aggravate his pounding headache. It would go away like the others if he was just relaxed and not stressed. There was a bag from the jewelers, but it was the envelope that grabbed his attention first.

_Dearest Mark,_

_Today I am getting the confirmation about a new addition to our family. You won't remember that you have been sick with the flu. I want you to know that I love you and I know that you will be the most wonderful big brother. This cross has been in the Thorn family for generations. I hope that you will give this to the woman you love someday. Faith is important and I hope that during difficult times, although you should never be afraid to do so, if you ever don't want to speak to your Father or me for whatever reason– I hope that you will lean on your Bible and its comforting words. But I also hope that you find joy in the scriptures as well. Here is one of my favorites:_

_Deuteronomy 31:6** - Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the LORD thy God, he [it is] that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee._

_I will always love you, Mark. _

_Hugs and Kisses, _

_\- Mommy._

Mark let one tear fall down his face.

How come his father never told him his Mother was pregnant when she died? What was he supposed to do with this information? Who could he tell? He didn't want to burden Vanessa, he didn't want to have the why-did-you-keep-this-from-me argument with his father, there was no way he was going to tell Ann even though he did call her Mom, she was NOT his mother, and Damien - Damien only cared about himself.

The best thing Mark thought he could do was to keep this to himself. He couldn't look at his mother's necklace; he'd rather see it when he presented it to Vanessa on Sunday. He took the cardboard box, put the bag back inside and for some unknown reason, that maybe only his soul understood, added Aunt Marion's Bible to the contents and headed back home where he hoped to avoid everyone else and especially Damien for the rest of the day.

* * *

**Sunday**

**Café **

**After Damien and Sage left **

Vanessa was much more relaxed with Mark when Damien and Sage left. She had her hands around the warm white ceramic mug that contained cocoa.

"'Nessa, are your parents okay with us going to the Winter dance?"

Vanessa held Mark's hand, "They didn't care about us attending the other one. Are you okay, Mark? You don't seem like yourself today. Did Damien?"

"No. I just…I promised myself I wasn't going to tell you. I don't want you to be burdened by my family, you have to deal with enough bullshit from yours."

She could tell by his tone of voice and his heavy eyes that this was serious.

"I love you. You will not be burdening me at all."

Mark sighed. This was not how he wanted it to go today at all. He wanted it to be romantic like the movies.

"I found a note my Mother wrote to me on the day she died."

"What did she say?"

"She was pregnant."

"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry."

"That's not even what has me bothered. It's the fact that my Father never thought to tell me."

"He probably didn't want you to be saddened_. He didn't_ _want_ _to burden you_."

"That is why, I love you," Mark took the bag out of his jacket pocket, "I'm sorry that it is not wrapped. I want you to have this now. Merry _Christ_mas, Vanessa."

Vanessa carefully opened the velvet pouch, "Mark, this is so beautiful," She handed him the necklace so he could put it around her neck, "Thank you, so much."

"My Mother would want you to have this and my Father gave his permission yesterday."

He went on to explain the history of the cross in the Thorn family. They kissed each other on the lips and for one brief moment their forever future together seemed infinite.

*I made up this bank name so if it was/is real, it is purely coincidental.

**King James Version

***First name created by me


	7. Mine

**Chapter 7**

**Mine**

**Day after Thanksgiving November 24, 1978**

**Friday**

Damien really did not want to do this.

He tried to block his true feelings from rising to the surface as he and Mark did their once-a-year trek to get the holiday items out of the attic. At least the secular happy snowmen, round Santa figures, and reindeers with red noses decorations were just mindless fluff for the children, of which, he and Mark were not anymore.

Why bother? People who lived in lavish estates such as the Thorn's didn't have what you could call actual neighbors for miles. It was at Mark's thirteenth birthday party that Paul Buher told him to put away the childhood things and here he was at fifteen assisting his cousin with the holiday decorations when not only were he and Mark not children, but there were not any kids in the family who would appreciate any of this effort.

Mark looked over Damien's shoulder when he noticed his cousin not following him up the stairs to get the rest of the boxes.

"Hey, Damien! We're not done."

"That's up to you to finish, Mark._ I am done._ I have to make an important phone call."

Then there were the boxes full of spiritual decorations that Damien did not want to handle let alone have to see for months. If Mark wanted to finish getting the rest of the boxes down from the attic and displaying the adornments then either he was going to do it himself or have one of the servants assist. Damien was finished.

Mark smirked. Damien must have settled on who he wanted to be his date for the Winter Formal.

They used to have so much jubilance around the holidays, but it was around this time last year when Damien was in his typical moody self and come to think of it everything regarding his cousin seemed to shift once Mark turned thirteen.

There was nothing he could do but finish what he started. Damien shouldn't be grumpy when it was the Christmas season.

* * *

Damien closed the door to his and Mark's room and rather than speak in his mind. He did so out loud.

"Father, my patience is really being tried today…now I have to call one of these Catholic school girls, but which one?" There was no answer so Damien continued to talk as he took out his black book of phone numbers from his side drawer by his bed. "They're all the fucking same type…except for the school's 'expert' slut, Charlotte the Harlot, who I know it bothers that she can't get her 'hooks' in me – nah. Tracey…she fancied Mark until she found some guy named Bryan – because Mark fell in love with that hideous Vanessa…..I suppose it'll have to be Christine again."

Christine roomed with Vanessa so it made sense on that level, plus it would make the latter anxious to share the same car with them. Christine was a good lay for a high school girl; she liked it rough, but of course, not as rough as Damien would have gone if his Father allowed. Damien could not wait to get rid of all the pretenses surrounding him, but as Neff would remind him, now was NOT the time for the world to know he was.

_The Devil's Son. _

_The Antichrist. _

He caught his reflection in the mirror and fixed the part of his hair with his right hand. He thought he heard his name 'Damien' being whispered in the room, so he picked up the phone and pressed the numbers on the touchtone pad. A little girl, of about six answered,

"Heh…llo?"

Christine must have had a younger sister who sounded like she was missing her two bottom teeth.

"Is Christine there? Tell her it's Damien."

It was slightly amusing to hear her sister do a half-assed cover of the receiver with what must have been her small hand. "Ch—ris..t-eeen…..Dammm—ii..eeen…"

Damien heard Christine pull rank and told her sister to get out of the room.

"Go away, Cindy!…Hi, Damien…I'm sorry about that."

Damien could picture her pushing her little sister out of the way.

Even though Damien couldn't see her, Christine was still embarrassed that she had a green facial mask on her face.

"It's okay. Do you have a date for the Winter Formal?"

Despite her face being dried from her beauty treatment she smiled and even if she had a date lined up she would have dumped him in a heartbeat. This was the second dance Damien invited her to. Maybe, he was _the one._ She wasn't sure yet. But then again she didn't want a serious boyfriend, but if it was Damien Thorn…she was going to have to get the Rabbit out of her drawer tonight and stimulate her thoughts.

"No. Are you asking me?"

Damien bit his lip getting bored, "Yes. Would you like go to the Winter Formal with me?"

"Yes!" She hoped she didn't sound too excited, "I'd love to Damien."

"Good. I'll call you with the details later. Stay available."

He hung up before she could say goodbye. He knew she'd be calling all of her girl friends to brag about her "conquest", when Damien knew it was the other way around.

_She was his conquest._

* * *

**Midnight  
**

Damien couldn't sleep. He found himself in the kitchen to pour himself a glass of milk. After he put the carton away, he slid his finger across the chocolate icing of the left over cake from dessert and licked it off his finger before closing the stainless steel built to be inside the wall refrigerator.

It was only then that he realized he never changed into his pajamas. He put the empty glass in the top rack of the dishwasher.

He walked into the main living room and looked at the clear lights on the holiday tree. They were set on the automatic timer to go off just before the sunrise. There were silver and gold bows, round glass orb ornaments in many colors, ornaments in the style of childhood initial blocks 'M' for Mark and 'D' for Damien, a few Thorn Industries logo ornaments with the years inscribed in gold. The garland was gold and the tinsel was silver. It was a pretty tree except for the damn fucking angel tree topper, which Damien wanted to destroy, he knew who she was supposed to represent, with her blonde hair and blue eyes. That was Uncle Richard's way to remember his first wife and for how good of a detective Ann was supposed to be, it bemused Damien that she never caught on, either that or she was throwing her husband a bone, a let this small matter go kind of strategy.

The red stockings were hung by the mantle like a Norman Rockwell _Saturday Evening Post _cover – Richard, Ann, Mark and Damien their names in gold glitter on the white tops. Damien thought about switching the order of his and Mark's but it really didn't matter.

His face was flushed with frustration and again the urge to extinguish when he saw the cross in the center of the fireplace with two unlit white candles in silver candlestick holders that went out on the sides to form 'T's for Thorn on both sides. There were also sparkly white lights around the fireplace. Damien put his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans allowing his face to show anger, fighting the urge to put the cross down on the floor and urinate on it.

"_Fucking Christ," _He picked up the cross wishing it would break in his hands_, "You will NOT win. Do YOU hear me? You WILL NOT win. ave Satani."* _

Rather than put it back the way he found it, he inverted the cross.

* * *

**Saturday**

**Thorn Museum**

**Christmas Around the World** Exhibit.**

Mark thought he must have a been a frugal date, but Vanessa did say she wanted to see the Christmas Around the World Exhibit, but Mark wished his families name was not on the building.

The dimly lit museum was perfect for safe hand-holding and Mark might have thought he was a hypocrite; he did like the privacy of being here when the was museum closed. They stopped in front of the Spain section. The card in front of the glass*** read: _**"The country's patron saint is the Virgin Mary and the Christmas season officially begins December 8, the feast of the Immaculate Conception. It is celebrated each year in front of the great Gothic cathedral in Seville with a ceremony called los Seises or the "dance of six."**_

"Mark, can we sit for a bit?" Vanessa asked when they got near the bench where the patrons who wished to have a place to sit while looking at the exhibits could do so without having to stand.

"Sure."

Vanessa smiled. She was so grateful to have this private time with Mark, she was on Thanksgiving break from her school so she didn't have to deal with the cliques, she was away from her parents, and thankfully they did not have to deal with Damien tonight. When she was alone with her boyfriend that was when she felt the most safe and secure. Vanessa touched her cross with her right hand before she spoke.

"I just couldn't wait to give you your Christmas gift either….."

"Vanessa, you didn't have to buy me anything."

"Don't be silly, Mark," She kissed him on the cheek and took a small box wrapped in silver paper with a red bow out of her school tote bag, "I wanted to."

It was a man's cross necklace in sterling silver. She was able to get the back engraved:

_T.M.L.V._

"Vanessa, this is beautiful…you really didn't have to…."

She put it around his neck like he had done for her and the two of them shared a tender moment until they heard someone doing a polite cough that took them out of their world.

Mark blushed, "Dr. Warren, I didn't see you standing there."

"It's okay." He remembered what it was like to be young and in love.

"Vanessa Greenhill, I'd like you to meet Dr. Charles Warren who is curator of the Thorn Museum. Dr. Warren, this is my girlfriend, Vanessa."

Everyone exchanged pleasantries. Dr. Warren was locking up the building for the night.

"Did you two enjoy the exhibit?" Dr. Warren wondered.

Vanessa held Mark's hand. "Yes. It was nice to see the displays featuring the true meaning of _Christ_mas."

* * *

Vanessa thought her and Mark must be square to some. She was certain the boys at the academy made fun of Mark for "still being a virgin" just as Vanessa's schoolmates did. In this modern world you were supposed to live with reckless abandon and you were also supposed to leave your Faith at the door. Vanessa's parents didn't believe in God, which was risky with her Father being a Senator. She was eternally grateful that her boyfriend had the same beliefs that she did.

_It would be okay as long as they were together._

"'Nessa, What are you thinking about? You seem to be in deep thought?" Mark asked on the ride home.

He wished his father would let him have his own car. He was sixteen, he knew how to drive. It seemed embarrassing and frivolous at that exact moment to have Murray bring the both of them home as if they were little children.

"I'm just thinking of how much I love you, Mark Thorn." She snuggled into his chest and wished the ride to her house was longer than the thirty minutes it would take to get there.

"I love you, too." He kissed the top of her head as the Thorn limousine drove onward leaving downtown Chicago for the suburbs.

* * *

**After  
**

Damien was downstairs in the living room trying to clear his head of his internal clutter when Mark returned home.

"You're still up, Damien?" Mark was in the foyer as he put his jacket on the hook.

"Yes."

Damien did not want to hear about how Mark's date with Vanessa went. She was just a frigid little bitch. Damien saw the silver glittering from Mark's neck.

"What's that?" He asked rhetorically.

"Vanessa gave me this for Christmas." Mark swore if Damien was anything but nice he was going to let him have it.

_Of course she did. _

_A fucking cross. _

_YOU WILL NOT WIN _

"I'm tired. I'm going to bed now." Damien replied simply ending their conversation and went up the stairs to their room leaving Mark dumbfounded.

_ave Satani. _

_**Author's Note: *Per the Wiki Ave Satani Page – Jerry Goldsmith used ave Satani – The correct Latin is avē Satana for Hail Satan. I'm going with Goldsmith's use of the words assuming he was going for a poetic license and to me it just sounds better.**_

_****This is a real annual tradition at The Chicago Museum of Science and Industry, for the sake of this fictional universe, I'm putting this idea in the Thorn Museum.**_

_*****If the URL gets cut off it's the historyofchristmas DOT COM.**_


	8. The Winter Formal Part One

**Chapter 8**

**The Winter Formal**

**Part 1**

**December 22, 1978**

**Friday**

The huge denim duffle bag was opened and the contents dropped on one of the guest beds. Damien said, of course, if Damien said, then it had to be all right. It would be easier for Christine and Vanessa to be at Thorn Manor and that they could leave with him and Mark at seven o'clock. Christine in her white push-up bra and panties stood over her massive collection of mascaras, eye shadows/liners, blushes, and lip glosses. How much make-up did one person need? Was Damien Thorn worth all of this fuss? Vanessa thought to herself.

"You could use a little make-up." Christine advised Vanessa.

"I AM wearing make-up."

"What a little bit of blush and CLEAR lip gloss?" Christine wanted to say – _what could Mark Thorn possibly see in you?_ But she refrained. She wanted to try and remain polite after all she was in the Thorn home and didn't want to blow her chances of ever being invited here again.

"Mark doesn't complain."

Vanessa watched as Christine took the pink tube of mascara with the mint green top and jerked the wand in and out of the tube before applying two heavy coats to her upper lashes.

"To your face, he doesn't."

Vanessa put her back to Christine and took her bottle of Love's Baby Soft off the vanity table, everything she brought fit in one case minus the garment bag for her dress.

"That's not true."

Christine ignored her reply and focused on the superficial. "The least you can do is wear a small drop of my Chanel Number Five…you know some grown-up women parfum."

"No, thanks. Is Damien really worth all of this effort?"

Vanessa thought she looked nice with her long white formal dress with its blue accents.

"You don't understand Damien."

"You're right. I don't. Why the little black dress?"

"That's for later, something you and Mark know nothing about." Christine said while she unzipped her garment bag. Her formal dress was emerald green with a 'v' neckline versus Vanessa's with the round neckline. Christine was going to put the green dress over the black one to give Damien something to unwrap later on.

"You and Damien are perfect for each other."

"Vanessa, I'm going to be honest with you, okay?" Christine put on her stockings. "No one likes you. Your only real friend Megan moved to London with her parents. You aren't being fair to Mark. You are teasing him. We're teenagers, not middle aged for Christ's sake. You think you are better than us at school. I wish Tracey met him first at least she's cooler than you are. You are such a drag. It's not about your refusal to have sex with a man you supposedly love, it's how you go about things_._ You believe in a higher power? Good for you. Our parents just sent us to a boarding school that happens to be a Catholic one, but most us take it in stride, some of us have our own beliefs on the subject, others do not. You like to shove things down everyone's throat. You guilted Mark into just having to give you his dead Mother's cross and then you buy him one as if to show off to the rest of us before Christmas break. None of us like you much Vanessa and if you were smart, you'd cut Mark loose before it's too late._ If you disappeared tomorrow, no one would care about your whereabouts._ You're dragging Mark down, at least me, Charlotte, and the rest of us girls are HONEST. Also why do you hate Damien so much? He's never done anything to you to warrant such standoffish behavior."

Christine was saying a lot of empty words. Vanessa just sat on the other bed in the guest room. She refused to cry she didn't want her make-up to run and she didn't want to give Christine the satisfaction that any of her speech got to her.

"Christine, none of what you said is true. Not one word." Vanessa put on her white ballet flat style shoes and walked right past her to go into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

She put the water on at the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. She wanted to splash her face with the tepid water, but her face was already done. She could smell the hairspray that Christine was using through the closed door. She took her pearlescent headband off and put it back on, for a brief second she lost her breath, and the reflection in the mirror looking back at her was all bruised and bloody. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and looked in the mirror again and the gruesome self-image was gone.

Maybe Christine was right. Maybe Mark could do better than her after all.

* * *

Damien was dressed in his formal uniform and was waiting for Mark so they could go downstairs and meet their dates and get their photos taken. He looked out the window, resting his head on the glass. It was snowing, just a light snow globe romantic dusting. There was already an inch on the ground from the previous evening. If he had to celebrate this wretched holiday, he was going to give himself one well-deserved present. He let his lips form a small smile in knowing that only he knew what was going to happen tonight.

_Father, I knew you'd approve. _

"Damien, what are you doing?" Mark fastened the last button on his blazer as he came out of the bathroom. He hoped that Vanessa noticed that over the course of a month, he did lose three pounds, which was not easy during this season of everyone trying to shove a sweet of some kind down his throat.

"Waiting for you. Don't forget your hat."

While he wished he could get more accomplished this evening, it was going to have to be a small step. The job would get done effectively. That was all that mattered.

* * *

**Thorn Living Room **

Damien didn't know what was worse. Him hearing Mark gush on how "beautiful" Vanesssa looked or when he had to say similar words to Christine. She was prettier than Vanessa, but so was a vat of pond scum.

Christine thought it was "so beautiful" that Damien presented her with a single long stemmed red rose that Vanessa had to made sure she didn't roll her eyes or make a snide remark with Mr. and Mrs. Thorn present. Mark gave her an orchid wrist corsage. Vanessa didn't have time to savor the moment when Ann wanted all of the kids to stand by the fireplace to get their pictures taken.

"Just one more for posterity!" Ann exclaimed as if this should have been her winter formal and was disappointed that her job at the moment was being the family photographer with her professional Canon camera.

Christine got the quick impression that she wanted Damien, but swiftly dismissed it and figured she watched too many soap operas whenever she was home from school. She couldn't be harboring sexual fantasies about her fifteen-year-old-nephew (through marriage). That would be quite sick.

"I think you took plenty." Richard stated. Ann was going to have to learn to cut the cord so to speak.

Vanessa wanted to ask Mark if they really had to ride with Christine and Damien in the Thorn limousine. It wasn't polite and she didn't want to make a scene, it was only when Mark helped her with her white dress coat, that he put his black one on.

Christine playfully sighed.

"Damien, _I forgot_ to bring my coat…."

"You can wear mine."

Even though he knew she forgot to bring one on purpose. He was quite warm in his dress uniform that he didn't mind giving up his coat and it also drove Vanessa crazy.

_There's more where that came from. _

* * *

**Thorn Limousine **

It was six after seven and Vanessa thought Damien and Christine showed no class whatsoever making out in the limousine with her and Mark present in the seats across from them.

"He's such a show off." Mark whispered.

_I can hear you. Maybe, you'll learn a thing or two. _

"So is she." Vanessa whispered in kind, holding his hand.

_I can hear you as well. I'll be counting down the time to your misery. _

* * *

**The Dance**

Damien gave a nod to Sgt. Neff who looked bored having to be one of the chaperones as he escorted Christine inside the dance.

She loved how strong Damien's grip was as they held hands. You had to be a real woman and not a little girl like Vanessa to be with Damien Thorn she thought.

"Would you like to dance?"

Damien really didn't want to take part in these activities, but he was going to need Christine's assistance later on for an activity that did not involve her spreading her legs.

* * *

Vanessa was elated to be away from Damien and Christine as she and Mark talked to one of his classmates. Kevin Flannery* couldn't see without his glasses. His father sent him Davidson so he would "become a man" instead of a geek who liked to cook and write poetry.

"How come you aren't wearing your glasses?" Mark questioned.

He knew his friend couldn't see without them as some of the other cadets (mostly led by Damien) thought it would be funny to hide them on him on occasion to see him bump into things.

"They're in my pocket. I don't care if she lost a bet, but Charlotte the Harlot is taking me to the make-out closet as soon she gets done talking to her friends in the bathroom!"

Kevin was also "still a virgin", but unlike Mark, he didn't want to wait for the right time with the woman he wanted to marry. He just wanted to get the proverbial monkey off his back. He didn't care if he was the butt of the joke with the ladies afterwards. He was just wanted to lose the stigma attached with being a virginal male teen.

Vanessa watched Damien dance with Christine. He was doing everything right, but yet, everything was still wrong. It was like having a picnic in the middle of the pouring rainstorm, sure, you could do it, but it didn't make it right. She didn't mind Mark talking to another friend, Benjamin Foster, who also was dateless, but not because he was a nerd.

"Did you hear about Kelly?" Benjamin whispered.

"No."

"He didn't want to come to the dance because he didn't want to see your cousin."

Everyone knew Ryan Kelly was gay and that he had a crush on Damien, but he wasn't going to add to the conversation. It was that topic a while back that caused him and Damien to have an argument that led to him punching Mark in the face _accidentally_ knocking him unconscious for a bit.

"I'm not getting involved in that drama." Mark stated when Benjamin left to talk to a dateless female that he eyed.

"Vanessa, would you like to dance?"

"Of course, Mark." Her eyes sparkled.

* * *

Christine quietly laughed in Damien's shoulder.

"You want me to do what?!"

Damien felt damned if he did, and damned if he didn't, but a by-product of this plan was going to have to give Mark and that wretched Vanessa some alone time together. The end would have to justify the means.

"You heard me." He whispered back in an alluring way.

When he asked someone to do something, he did NOT like being questioned about it, but knowing how and when to "let go" was something that he just started to master. Christine was harmless and a useful tool.

"I get it, Damien. You are an absolute genius. Do you really have to leave? What will I do while you are gone?"

"Just for a bit. You do want me to get some booze? I couldn't very well steal it in front of my Aunt and Uncle, you know. Talk to your girlfriends."

"Of course. I would do anything for you Damien."

He kissed her quickly on the lips.

"Let's say we start in five minutes." Damien led Christine to the punch bowl as he watched Mark and Vanessa slow dance as his heart started to beat rapidly over what was to come. He was angry and jealous seeing them so certain of their so-called true romance like that. She had no right to take Mark away from him, absolutely no right at all.

_I wish I could a vat dump pig blood on your head.**  
_

_No. I'd rather crush your skull in, you high-horse bitch.  
_

That was the one thought that he hoped he would not have to "let go" of.

* * *

As the two teenagers slow danced to their dreams of forever and the grace of God to get them there.

Two other souls, one dark, and one manipulated by the dark, worked to tear them apart.

_[Song lyrics removed]  
_

_**To Be Continued...**_

**_Author's Notes: Thank you for finding me in the 'M' section, which is where most multi-layered Omen fic has to go. And thanks for viewing my brainstorm idea/writing exercise: Damien's Daughter. It will be written proper when I finish this one. I just wanted to get the concept up._**

**_*Remember the kid at the academy with the big glasses when Neff was having his one on one with the cadets? Since a character name was not given, I made up one._**

**_*Reference to Carrie by Stephen King, 1974 novel. 1976 film._**

**_Thanks to JoanMilton for helping me pick out an appropriate song for Mark and Vanessa.  
_**

**_You Light Up My Life – Written by Joe Brooks and sung by Debby Boone (1977). Boone sang it for her faith in God, which works for not only Mark and Vanessa, but would also further agitate Damien. Unfortunately, you CANNOT post song lyrics here. However, I did read on the forums here that you can at least mention the song titles and artists. Thanks, JM, for letting me know that as well. _**


	9. The Winter Formal Part Two

**Chapter 9**

**The Winter Formal**

**Part 2**

**December 22, 1978**

**Friday**

When Vanessa and Mark went in closer near the songs end that was when Damien softly whispered to Christine "Now", looked at Sgt. Neff, grabbed his hat from the pile, and proceeded to walk out the door with no emotion in his voice, when he got into the Thorn limousine, he simply told Murray to take him to the "Greenhill residence."

He rested his head back and lit a cigarette from the packet he had inside his coat pocket.

His coat smelled like Christine's perfume.

* * *

Christine took a final drink of her punch and wished that it was spiked with vodka. If Damien trusted her with a task than she was going accomplish it without any effort. She ignored Charlotte coming over to talk to her and went over to Mark and Vanessa as they were about to leave the dance floor.

"I need to speak to both of you."

"Why?" Vanessa asked with her guard up.

"What's wrong?" Mark noticed Kevin high-fiving some of the other guys.

"…in private…."

She made sure to get them near the make-out closet and opened the door.

"Charlotte..." Vanessa started to say as she didn't notice that Charlotte and Kevin were done with their 'session'.

"She's done with the dork, will you just come on?"

As soon as Mark escorted Vanessa in, Christine made sure to quickly close the door and lock it from the outside.

"She is such a….."

The name the make-out closet was a complete misnomer. It was a big storage area with an adjoining restroom and a small window.

The kids rigged it so it could only be locked from the outside so that way the couple that was inside couldn't get out unless they either attempted to try the small window or if they could somehow break the door down.

There was a beat-up sofa against the back wall. Mark held Vanessa's hand, but he wasn't prepared for what she was about to do.

* * *

**Greenhill Residence**

The Greenhill's main residence was not a spread out estate like Thorn manner, but more of an upper middle-class house on a normal street with actual neighbors on each side of the cul-de-sac. It was most of these types that thought they were poor because they could only have one BMW instead of two and couldn't afford their own private island. Damien pressed the buzzer and from the looks of the driveway one of Vanessa's parents were home. Whoever wanted to pretend they were downtrodden by driving last year's Oldsmobile Cutlass S Sedan.

"Who is calling?" A female voice asked that Damien presumed was the help.

"Damien Thorn for Mr. or Mrs. Greenhill, please," He briefly thought and then added, "Mark Thorn's cousin."

Normally he'd never have to add Mark's name to his, but for this excursion it was absolutely necessary to the task at hand. After the thirty seconds that felt like an hour, the voice came back.

"I'll be with you in a minute. I'm coming from the upper level."

Damien tried to remain calm. He knew this would work.

He just had to practice his patience.

* * *

**Dance **

Mark was stunned when Vanessa started frantically kissing him as if she were trying to come up for air. She was fumbling with the buttons on his double-breasted jacket. It's not that he didn't want her to stop, but this was not his girlfriend. He could wait for marriage. It meant more that way. It's not that he didn't practice self-gratification, but he would never put pressure on his girlfriend to put out like half of the sluts in her school.

"V- 'Nessa…what has gotten into you?"

"Mark, I was just trying to give you what you wanted. Christine-"

He put his index finger to her lips, "You don't have to say anymore. Whatever she said, it's not true. Do you think I want us to have our first time here with our classmates outside?"

"Christine said that I drag you down."

He smiled, "You're not," She put his head on his shoulder, "Think about it like this, when she's on husband number five and with a bad facelift, we'll still be together."

Vanessa held Mark's hand tight. Sometimes, she felt it would never happen. That they would never be married.

"I hope so. We _can_ try new stuff."

"Only when you are really ready."

* * *

**Greenhill Residence **

Damien was escorted up to the upper level. Was this Vanessa's mother? Sitting in the middle of the floor in her old jeans and her college t-shirt working on some kind of pottery project. She had long blonde hair that she had in a ponytail and up in a red bandana like _Rhoda_.

"I hope you don't mind me working on my pottery for world peace project."

Was she serious?

"No. Go ahead."

"What brings you by, Damien?"

She wiped her covered with clay hands on her previously pristine white apron.

Damien waited for the maid to be completely down the stairs before he started.

"I'm coming here under the assurance this conversation stays between you, your husband, and I."

"Is this about Vanessa and Mark?"

"Yes," Damien took of his cap, "I don't want Mark to know I'm here, but his judgment has been clouded lately and so has your daughter's. I think when I left our school dance they were headed for the make-out closet. And Mrs. Greenhill, before you respond, yes, you might be aware of _my stunt_ at the last school dance with my girlfriend, but we learned our lesson. Mark and Vanessa are talking about marriage and I'm sure you are aware of their interest in the Catholic faith. I've read about you and Senator Greenhill and you don't believe in organized religion (_which shows you are just as stupid as your daughter_) I'm sorry to have manipulated the conversation. _Mark is my cousin, I love him_. Vanessa is your daughter, you love her (_and if you don't, who cares?) _I just wanted to get this off my chest."

The only true words that came out of his mouth was that in his own unique way he did love Mark.

Mrs. Greenhill stopped her activity.

"Damien, I appreciate your candor and what a mature head you have on your young shoulders."

"Thank you."

"If you don't mind, can you leave yourself out?"

She was about to stop her goofy little pottery project and Damien hoped she was going to call her husband.

"Sure. May I use the -"

Mrs. Greenhill knew what he meant.

"Sure. It's the second door on your left."

"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Greenhill, I hope that you have a good evening."

* * *

**Dance  
**

Vanessa felt like she could fly as Mark kissed her neck.

They could go a little further. They were the only true couple at the dance. She didn't know if they were in this 'closet' for five or fifteen minutes, she just didn't want this night to end.

Christine's practical joke got them to this next level, she was going to have to rub it in her fake friends face later on. Whatever she tried to do, it did not work, her back slightly arched as Mark, which wasn't easy with all of the frilly fabric, traveled upwards with his hand up her dress.

* * *

**Greenhill Residence **

Damien couldn't help but notice the pristine white and pink room.

Of course, Vanessa would have a canopy bed with a lilac colored comforter. Her perfectly made bed with a white teddy bear, complete with pink hearts on its paws. He really wanted to go over there and break its stuffed neck. Or better yet Vanessa's real neck. _Please, Father, let me know when I can finally kill the bitch. _

Damien didn't have much time so he went to Vanessa's white desk; she had Mark's most recent class picture in a frame. He noticed her white leather bound Bible. He couldn't help but to see what the idiot had bookmarked.

_Hebrews 13:4 _

_Marriage is honorable in all, and the bed undefiled: but whore mongers and adulterers God will judge.* _

Damien filed away his anger at that judgmental little bitches sanctimonious Bible passage and put the book back where he found it.

He grabbed two pieces of her pink heart stationery, matching envelope, and one stamp with its back still attached. He also was able to steal one of her ink pens from the pile, and yes, his Father loved him, because there was a small vile of her girly perfume in the mix. He didn't know why he needed these things. _He just knew he had to acquire them. _

He put them in his other inside jacket pocket and he walked to the bathroom that Mrs. Greenhill said he could use so she could hear the flush.

He walked down the stairs victorious as he heard Vanessa's mother pearl clutch on the kitchen phone.

"Jack, what are we going to do about our daughter?"

Damien exited the Greenhill house and went back to the Thorn limousine but not before he put his window down and swiftly discarded the rose he gave to Christine on the cold pavement.

* * *

**Dance**

Vanessa thought if she died right now she'd still die happy being with the young man she loved, even if after this make-out closet experiment they were both still virgins.

They could hear the thumping on the door, which Vanessa thought was silly because it locked from their end, and any of these future leaders of America could unlock the it.

"Come on, Thorn…" called out an unknown male voice who wanted his turn.

Vanessa put her hands on Mark's sweaty face. She was happy and grateful for this moment. This night could not get any better. She kissed him on the lips. It was progress in the right direction and she knew that he felt the same way.

"I guess, we should let someone else have a turn. I love you, Mark."

Vanessa said straightening herself up. Only whores like Christine and Charlotte would emerge with wrinkled clothes.

"I love you too, Vanessa." Mark smiled as he buttoned up his jacket.

He didn't doubt their love for one second. The wait would be worth it. _The best was yet to happen. _

* * *

**Outside the dance  
**

"Damien, you forgot something." Murray stated as Damien had his hand on the door handle.

"I did?"

Murray handed him a small flask containing vodka.

Damien spent all of his energy with Vanessa's stupid mother and getting some of her belongings that he actually did forget the booze.

"Thanks, Murray. I wouldn't want to come back empty handed."

The older man smiled. Damien was coming into his own.

* * *

**Dance  
**

Christine and Charlotte were in the ladies room.

"She makes me absolutely sick." Christine fumbled for her lipstick in her green evening clutch. She wanted to have fresh painted lips for when Damien returned. It was certainly taking him long enough to come back with some illicit booze.

"Who?" Charlotte inquired.

"You know who. Vanessa. I cannot fucking stand her. Her and Mark came out of the make-out closet like they accomplished something on a whole other deeper level. I don't blame him as much as I blame her. Now they are slow dancing again."

"What do you expect? They do love each other you know."

"Well she still bugs me and Mark can do so much better than her."

"Damien's back." She heard one of the other girls say who entered the restroom.

"That's my cue." Christine left Charlotte alone with her thoughts.

Christine did not want to keep Damien waiting.

* * *

Damien was slightly taken aback when Christine wrapped her arms around him like she hadn't seen him in one hundred years. _And males are the only possessive ones? I think not. _Damien thought.

"I missed you, Damien," Christine placed a kiss on his soft lips, "Did you get any liquor?" She whispered.

He raised a careful eyebrow.

"Christine," Damien noticed Mark and that cow on the dance floor, "How did it go?"

"They were in there for quite a while. Rumor has it, your cousin gave her a hickey, but I haven't seen it up close yet."

Damien took an internal deep breath.

"You're going to be angry with me…." He used the playful tone he knew Christine would respond to as he really had no use for being at a school dance.

"Angry at you, Damien? Never."

"I have an idea, that is _if you are game."_

As long as it lead to them having sex tonight she did not care what she had to do to get there.

"Of course, I am." She smiled and touched the tip of her nose with his.

* * *

"Mark, do we have to?"

Vanessa whispered in his ear. After the dance the kids weren't going to their usual hangout at the café. They were all going to one of the better clubs. The ones where kids with the right parents could be served alcohol and no one would lose their liquor license and where illegal drugs could be passed around in the dark.

"No, we don't have to. No one will be at our usual place; we'd have it to ourselves."

"That sounds lovely."

She just wanted to be with her boyfriend and no one else.

* * *

**After the dance **

**Thorn Limousine **

"You don't mind, do you, Mark?" Damien requested in his typical you-really-don't-have-a-choice way as they talked in the limousine while they waited for Christine and Vanessa, when the former wanted to have a private "very important" talk with before joining the their dates in the car.

"I suppose it's okay."

How did Damien know what his after dance plans with Vanessa were? Was his cousin psychic or something? Didn't Damien and Christine want to fuck each other in private?

Damien tapped Mark's knee, when he really wanted to keep his hand there.

"Good. Now let's see how long the girls will keep us waiting. By the way, I heard you gave Vanessa a hickey…."

"Shut up, Damien, just shut up."

* * *

**Girls Restroom**

Vanessa was glad for one thing and that was that they were the only girls here. If Christine was going to grill her then she wished she would just get it over with now.

"We're joining you and Mark instead of going to one of the clubs."

"Why?" Vanessa had to know.

"Man, one little hickey and you think you are just IT, don't you, Vanessa Greenhill? Last time I checked this was a free country."

"Don't you and Damien want to be alone?"

"That comes later." Christine figured she'd put on a fresh coat of mascara and lipstick. "Just because you and Mark spent a half-hour in a make-out closet, doesn't mean that you are ready for the big leagues."

"Didn't we have a similar discussion earlier this evening? Shut up. I'm done talking to you. As far as I'm concerned, you can walk out to the car yourself."

"Vanessa," Christine stated as Vanessa was opening the door to leave, "fuck off and die. The world would be a much better place without you in it."

Vanessa took a deep breath, considered the source, and left without letting Christine's words affect her this time.

They could grab a quick bite to eat and go their separate ways. Vanessa was determined to not let Christine nor Damien disturb her evening with Mark.

Nothing could go wrong between them as long as THEY were together.

_**To Be Continued…**_

*King James Version


	10. The Winter Formal Part Three

**Chapter 10**

**The Winter Formal**

**Part 3**

**December 22, 1978**

**Friday**

**Cafe **

The big round clock with the circular neon blue ring in the middle between the two menu boards stated eleven pm. Vanessa's parents said they would extend her curfew to midnight "just this once" and she was in just the mood to defy them.

All she wanted was to have some alone time with Mark.

The ride to the café was just as terrible as it was hours ago to the dance. Christine and Damien showed no class whatsoever. Intimate relations were supposed to be in private, not in front of her and her boyfriend. It was only above the waist necking, but they were so obvious knowing it got under her skin.

Mark stated that Damien always liked to show off whether it was being full of energy when every other cadet was sick from the accident at Thorn Industries to him making out with the girl du jour in front of them. It was just how Damien was. Vanessa thought he was a grade A jerk.

She sipped her soda from the bended straw and wished that both Damien and Christine were gone. She was half-tempted to have her and Mark share the tumbler with the one straw like in the old romantic movies of days gone by. However she did not want to stoop to their level.

"You know what's nice, Mark? Besides being with you that is."

"What's that?"

She kept her voice low, "That Damien and Christine are by the jukebox leaving us alone."

Mark sighed as he held her hand.

"True, but that's not going to last."

He was going to give them five minutes to return before he placed the food order for him and Vanessa.

* * *

Christine admired Damien's persistence. She knew whatever he had planned it was going to be good. She wasn't sure if Mark and Vanessa being locked in the make-out closet backfired or not. It seemed to have brought them closer. But it was exactly that peer pressure that got them nearer to the "all the other kids" are doing it mentality from the films in health class that she had to watch, the moral presented in them was to be like Mark and Vanessa, minus any of the antics that took place tonight. Fuck that, she thought as she inched closer to Damien.

He handed her a quarter for the record machine and got in closer and whispered in her ear, "Give me five minutes." He licked her ear lobe and Christine actually thought that she would have fainted from his charm.

* * *

Damien walked over to Mark.

"Hey, can I speak to you for a minute," and then he added, "outside?"

What did Damien want now? Mark was tired of his cousin at the moment, but he figured if he interrupted his time with Christine then it might have been important.

"Okay. I'll be back 'Nessa. You can order."

"No, I'll wait for you to come back." She said as she watched Christine pressing the buttons on the jukebox as if she were only half-interested in actually picking out a song.

"Thank you." Damien responded to her in an overly sweet way. She just wanted to hide under the table. There was something so creepy about Damien underneath the surface. How come no one else saw it? He was the kind of kid who could grow up to be arrested for murder. She was convinced of it. _Damien was evil. _

* * *

The air was cold and Mark regretted not bringing his coat. Damien offered him a cigarette.

"No, thanks."

Damien rolled in his eyes, but he had bigger fish to fry than to worry about whether or not Mark wanted to light up or do anything else that the so-called adults of the world said you weren't supposed to.

"Listen, if it's all right with you, I'd like to take Christine in the car later. I'll send Murray back for you and Vanessa."

The Thorn chauffeur was with the other drivers of the privileged kid's at one of the local watering holes taking a break from all of the adolescent strife two blocks down.

Mark let out an audible sigh. That was it? He had to come all the way outside for Damien to ask him only that? When he and Christine had no regard for privacy when they were making out in the car in front of him and Vanessa? Damien was rather quite two-faced Mark thought.

"I don't mind." He said rubbing his arms to keep warm.

Damien just knew Christine was moving too slow, "Good. One more thing…"

* * *

Christine walked over to Vanessa in confident strides.

"I want to talk to you…" She announced as if she had tell her the most important thing in the world.

"Well, I don't want to talk to you. Goodbye." Vanessa decided to go in the restroom of the café and locked the door behind her. Hopefully when she returned Mark would be back.

"That was too easy. Goodbye, you bitch." Christine stated when Vanessa was gone.

When Mark and Vanessa entered the café first, that was when Damien presented her with the flask of vodka which she hid on the floor next to the electrical outlet the jukebox was plugged into. He urged her to ONLY put a few drops in Vanessa's soda, but to NOT to put any in Mark's. Christine knew her night with Damien was on the line, just as she also knew Mark only remained a virgin because he respected his girlfriend, not because he wanted to remain celibate. It was only because of who he was chained to and he wasn't even married. She took some of Mark's soda to add to Vanessa's cup and stirred it with the straw. Hopefully that all pleased Damien.

* * *

Mark left Damien to rejoin Vanessa as Damien finished his cigarette. The air was brisk and had a perfect calm stillness about it. The sky was sapphire blue and he could see the constellation Cassiopeia named after the vain Queen Cassiopeia in Greek mythology. The truth was he needed to take a break. Sure he could kill idiots at his school like Andrew Masters, but that was, for lack of a better phrase, one and done. This was quite the task to see if he could pull something like this off. He was surprised Christine wasn't checking on him to make sure he was "okay". He decided to make his way around the building to back entrance, as he threw his cigarette in the metal garbage can, there must have been something wet on the bottom because he was disappointed to not see a spark.

The cook/dishwasher counted the five $20.00 bills that equaled a hundred. Damien couldn't think of a better way to spend part of 'Uncle Richard's' over compensating monthly allowance.

"Mr. Thorn..." The slightly older kid with the bad acne started to say.

"You can call me, Damien, and yes, you can go back to work to now. Thanks for your assistance."

"No. Thank you." It would go to his family to help pay the bills.

Damien sat on the back stairs and lit another cigarette.

_It was only a matter of time. _

* * *

**Inside **

When Mark walked back into the café after leaving Damien outside, he noticed Vanessa missing and Christine sitting by herself at the counter drinking a diet soda with a lemon wedge poised on the rim of the glass.

"Where's Vanessa?"

"In the restroom."

"Did you two fight again?"

Was Mark Thorn really going to stand there and act like Vanessa could do no wrong? Maybe, she should stop sticking up for him. He was just as bad as his girlfriend was.

Vanessa opened the door and reappeared.

"I'm okay, Mark, let's sit down and ignore HER. See if she's such a hot-shot then."

Christine was about to say something back, but stood up when Damien came in from the kitchen.

"When I was outside I ran into the cook. I hope you don't mind that I ordered for the two of us."

"Not at all, Damien."

He was so charming and considerate. She would do anything that he asked of her.

**Cut to Vanessa and Mark **

"Well then, I hope they eat fast, so we can have the place to ourselves." Vanessa said as her and Mark waited for their food order.

He held her hands.

"These interruptions aside, I have had a wonderful time with you tonight, Mark."

"Same here, Vanessa."

He brought her hands to his lips and kissed them.

**Cut to Christine and Damien**

"I wish we could be here to see if Vanessa gets tipsy." Christine whispered. She'd have spiked her and Damien's drinks but that would have revealed too much.

"I think you'd rather be with me." Damien dipped his French fry in ketchup in a circular motion.

"I think you are correct, Mr. Thorn. Did I tell you what I have under this dress?" She picked at her food.

She only wanted a couple of fries and a bite of her burger. She didn't want to gorge herself in front of him.

"Why don't you show me?" He said in a voice that was so sleek and seductive for a young man that she wanted to strip naked for him now, but then remembered where she was.

"Damien, Are you ready to go?"

Christine really had no desire to see how Mark and Vanessa's evening was going to finish. Maybe Damien's goal of getting Vanessa drunk was so she'd wind up having sex with Mark, wind up pregnant, and that would put a blemish out there for the local media who would eat up a scandal involving teenagers of two prominent families.

"We're off. See you." Damien said to Mark while ignoring Vanessa.

"And good luck." Christine added wearing Damien's cap.

"What was that all about?" Vanessa wondered.

"Let's just be glad they're gone."

It was going to be a pleasant evening now that they could enjoy a meal in peace without being bothered. In less than a span of two hours the world would come crashing down on two teenagers who just wanted to have some time together in the local teen hangout after the Winter Formal of 1978.

* * *

**Thorn Limousine **

As Christine feverishly unbuttoned Damien's blazer and he unzipped her gown.

He thought triumphantly:

_** Let the games begin.** _

_1 John 3:10 In this the children of God are manifest, and the children of the devil: whosoever doeth not righteousness is not of God, neither he that loveth not his brother.*_

**_To Be Continued..._**

_*King James Version_


	11. The Winter Formal Part Four

**Chapter 11**

**The Winter Formal**

**Part 4**

**December 23, 1978**

**Saturday (The midnight hour)**

**Teen café **

Mark Thorn felt he was too conscious for his own good. Richard and Ann were pretty liberal with curfews when it came to after dances or other social functions. The Thorn's may have been fine, but Vanessa was supposed to be home exactly AT midnight. He should have been thrilled that she wanted to let her legs travel up his when they were at the table. It was like her inhibitions were gone and she was almost like Christine. He just didn't want the Greenhill's to blow their stack.

They finished their meal of a shared plate of French fries a while ago. He didn't want to end their time together, but it was almost Christmas and he knew her parents were controlling and he knew they probably would have grounded her for her holiday making sure they couldn't see each other.

Mark decided he would take a page from Damien's book. If that happened then he thought he would find a way to see her at least once. Sometimes rules were meant to be broken when dealing with the unreasonable.

"M—mark T-horn….I love you." Vanessa said dreamily as she kissed his hands.

"Are you okay, Vanessa?" Her eyes seemed rather glassy.

"Of course, I am…I guess we better get going, huh?"

"I think that's a good idea. You realized you broke curfew?"

She giggled and covered her mouth. It was a side of Vanessa that he never saw before.

"Ahhh….too bad, too sad. I have to use the rest—room before we leave."

Mark watched as girlfriend almost bumped into the booth behind her to get to the bathroom. What was in her glass? There was still a drop of soda left. He put it up to his nose and took a sip.

Christine? Damien? What the fuck?

One of them spiked her drink. He pushed his anger to the side. He took out his wallet and paid for their food. His number one goal was to get Vanessa home safely. He would deal with other people later.

* * *

**Bathroom**

Vanessa had barely made it to the bathroom on time before throwing up.

She knew her drink was spirited from the first sip. It had to have been either Damien or Christine. She wasn't as mad over the situation as she should have been and that scared her. She thought she knew her own soul. While her and Mark made real progress in the making out area earlier she still wanted to go even further and if the alcohol could help her achieve that goal so be it.

She flushed the toilet and went to the sink to wash her hands. She already broke curfew, she may as well spend as much time with Mark as she could before her parents grounded her into oblivion. They should be enjoying their adolescence; that right was not just reserved for rule breakers like Christine and Damien.

* * *

**Thorn Manor**

**Guestroom**

What luck.

The head maid Trina informed Damien and Christine in their rumpled clothes before she turned in for the evening that Richard and Ann were out at an impromptu holiday gathering and they wouldn't be home until very late.

Damien and Christine were in the guestroom that she and Vanessa were in when they were getting ready for the Winter Formal hours ago.

The vinyl record changer clicked and dropped down another 33 and a half RPM record from the selections that Damien let Christine pick. He wasn't surprised that she picked out the pop records where Mark had drawn a juvenile heart with his and Vanessa's initials in blue ink on one of the covers.

"Damien," Christine nibbled on his neck, she didn't mind, that he was rough, because that's how she liked it, "Please unwrap me…"

Damien Thorn was probably not going to be forever, but for now, he was hers and she couldn't wait to brag to her girlfriends, especially Charlotte, when they returned to school after the Christmas holidays.

He pushed her on the bed hard.

* * *

**Teen Café **

Mark looked at his watch and then the clock in the diner. There were no other patrons in here for the whole time he was there. He waited for Vanessa to come out of the restroom, he quickly pondered if he should knock on the door to make sure she was all right.

He was taken out of his thoughts when he saw another car parked in front of the Thorn limousine that wasn't there before. The headlights were still on and the engine was still running when the door swung open and the car door slammed shut. Oh no. It wasn't….fuck. Damien and Christine were probably screwing each others brains out by now and he had to deal with the harsh realities of living the adage that nice guys DO finish last.

"Hello, Mrs. Greenhill…."

"Where is my daughter?" She never should have let Vanessa go the winter formal. She would have let the evening pass, but between Damien's visit earlier in the evening and Vanessa breaking curfew. She had no choice but to come and "collect her." She was too young to be in a serious relationship.

"Mother!" Vanessa was ready to have it out with someone at least her words weren't slurred anymore. "Leave Mark alone." She was ready to defend their love. She was expecting to hear she was grounded until doomsday, but what her parents had planned was much worse.

* * *

**Thorn Guestroom**

Damien hated foreplay. He supposed that was a masculine trait, but Mark was not home yet, so he had to tease Christine for a while longer.

"D-amien," She groaned into his shoulder as he kissed her neck, "I t—think I m-ight love you…."

_Good, because I don't love you. _

* * *

**Teen Café**

"Say your goodbyes to Mark." Mrs. Greenhill huffed with her hands on her hips. "Because you won't be seeing him for a very long time."

He sighed on the inside, but he wanted to be strong for his girlfriend, unlike Damien who had no idea what the word love even meant.

"Just how long am I being grounded for Mom?" Her eyes were the dam and her tears were ready to break through. At least they didn't know she got drunk.

"Me and your father have decided your Christmas holidays and the spring term will be spent at the Preston Academy in New York City."

"No! You can't do this…..What is wrong with being with someone you love?" Vanessa held Mark's hand tight.

She noticed the dishwasher/cook was watching the antics of an uptight suburban mother humiliate her daughter and her boyfriend. It might just have well been the whole world.

* * *

**Thorn Guestroom**

**30 Minutes Later**

It was sweet soul music, when Damien finally heard the crash from outside the room. His lips formed a more satisfying smile then they did earlier when Christine tried in vain to give him a hand-job. She was hardly the expert that she thought she was. Her head rested on Damien's chest. He'd have gone out there naked if he could.

He carefully moved her off him, so he could find his clothes in the dark. The only light coming from the moon and the digital clock. He settled on putting on his underwear, t-shirt, and his wrinkled formal trousers, leaving the rest of his clothes on the floor with Christine's.

He turned off the record player before leaving the room.

* * *

**Damien and Mark's Bedroom**

Mark was not ashamed to admit that he cried in the car ride home and still had tears streaming down his face when he felt two solid hands on his shoulders.

"Mark, what's wrong?"

Damien looked around the room. His cousin had cleared the top of his dresser and everything was scattered on the floor.

Mark turned around.

"Damien," He wiped his eyes, "Leave me alone." He took off his blazer and threw it on his bed.

"Did you and Vanessa have a fight?"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? "

"You don't have to be rude."

"I'm sorry Damien, I don't mean to take Vanessa's parents actions out on you, but you were never in love with another person before. Come on, we all know you love yourself most of all. They're sending her to school in New York, not after the holidays, but tonight, if you must know."

Damien was about to say something in return when the phone rang in their room.

"I'll get it," He knew exactly who this was, "Hello?"

"Damien, is Mark there?" Vanessa did her best to hold back her tears that she wound up having to cough.

"It's for you. I'll go."

Damien put the receiver on the table and went back to rejoin Christine.

"Mark, it's me…."

"Vanessa? Where are you?"

"I'm calling from a payphone. When my mother wasn't paying attention, I took one of her credit cards out of her purse. When the car was stopped at a red light, I got out and just kept on running. If I have to go to New York I will, but not before I get to see you and have a proper goodbye…."

"Vanessa, it's almost two in the morning!" She shouldn't be out on the Chicago streets by herself.

"I don't want to go back to the diner, because I know my mother will look there first. I'm not far from Thorn."

"Good. I'll meet you there. I'll call security and have them let you in the lobby. Please be safe, 'Nessa, I love you." He cupped the cross from his necklace in his hands.

"I love you, too, Mark." Unknowingly she did the same thing with her cross.

* * *

**Guestroom**

This did not unfold like it was supposed to. Damien was thoroughly disgusted with the events of the evening. The only thing positive that came out of it was Vanessa was being sent away. He knew from the vibrations of that phone call that he was going to go to her. Everything would be okay as long as that high-horse bitch stayed gone.

He took his t-shirt off and threw it on the floor. How Christine got home was her problem. Once Ann and Richard returned home they would be too busy dealing with Mark and his tru wuv for them to notice.

He put his hand over his mouth to stop from yawning, but it was no use, as soon as his head hit the pillow he was fast asleep with only one thought on his mind.

_Father, I want Mark to love ME and ONLY ME. _

* * *

**Thorn Industries**

It felt good to have his girlfriend in a loving embrace.

"How will I get to the airport?"

"I wish you didn't have to go, baby. I'll make sure you get on an airplane safely."

The security guard left his post to get something from the vending machine that gave Mark the opportunity to switch on the radio that was on the large round desk, both of them feeling a sense of optimism despite their pain, there was no such thing as a coincidence, when the song they danced to hours ago at the winter formal came on. It was like someone higher up was watching over them.

"Our song. My parents may not understand, but God certainly does."

"Shall we dance?"

"I would like that very much."

Mark kissed Vanessa on the lips as they had one last dance together.

The both of them realized that it would be their faith that would get them through any obstacles that would be put in their way. They would be eighteen soon enough and then nobody could stop them from ever being together again.

No one.

_Romans 12:9* Let love be without dissimulation. Abhor that which is evil; cleave to that which is good._

*King James Version

_**Author's Note: I was trying to do a teen type of serial with these series of chapters. It took a long time to get here. Thanks to all for their patience. **_


	12. One is Not Like the Other

**Chapter 12**

**One is Not Like the Other**

**December 23, 1978 **

**Saturday**

_1 Timothy 6:10 |*_

_For the love of money is the root of all evil: which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows._

Parents suck.

Instead of waking up to an early morning breakfast and any finishing last minute holiday shopping Vanessa Greenhill in her now wrinkled formal dress was walking down the cold and long corridor of the upper floors of the Preston Academy in New York City with the housemother who looked older than her thirty-six years.

Gloria Jenkins couldn't even have the winter vacation off, because not only was their one girl here with overly entitled parents, now there were two.

Didn't she have the right to a holiday break?

"You will be in Room 333. Listen, Victoria…"

"My name is Vanessa."

Whatever.

"I have to make some telephone calls, so you can introduce yourself to your new roommate, her name is Hannah Montgomery."

Vanessa thought it was way too early in the morning, how did the housemother know this roommate would even be up?

She knocked on the door, but no one answered, so she took it upon herself to open it.

There was teenage girl sitting up on her unmade bed listening to the stereo, tapping her socked feet on her blankets, with big black headphones on. She had a short dark hair in a pixie cut and Vanessa was immediately drawn to her black nail polish. She really did not want to make new friends.

She just wanted to be with Mark and she hoped that he was all right. Vanessa bought a gray suitcase in the airport gift shop; it only contained a pair of blue pajamas and her white coat. The only clothes she had was her now-out-of-place formal dress and Mark's black coat. Somewhere along the way between Chicago and New York she lost her corsage.

Hannah took off her headphones.

Who was this disheveled Cinderella who just burst into her dorm room uninvited _and_ unannounced?

"And you are?"

She seemed as charming as Damien. Why was everything a damn constant test?

"Vanessa Greenhill. I'm your new roommate. Believe me _I DO NOT want to be here_. I just want to go to bed."

"You seem a little overdressed for the premises, chickie."

"Fuck you." Vanessa was shocked that she cursed at this stranger, she covered her mouth as if she could take the words back, "I'm so-rry." She sat on her bed and cried. How she needed to sob to try and get the hurt and disappointment out of her system.

Great. She was one those little flower types. She wasn't going to last five minutes in this school when the other girls came back after the holidays.

Hannah walked over to Vanessa's bed and sat next to her and rubbed her shoulder to indicate that 'everything would be all right'.

"Let's start over. I'm Hannah Montgomery. The fact that you are arriving here before the holidays mean that your parents are awful." That's when she noticed Vanessa's cross necklace. Great. Put the Atheist with the Christian.

Hannah handed Vanessa a few tissues from the green box that was decorated with one big white snowflake.

"I'm sorry for cursing at you. I'm Vanessa Greenhill." She wiped the tears from her eyes.

"It's okay. Hi, Vanessa. I'll help you unpack."

"There is nothing in my suitcase, but a pair of pajamas and my coat."

"Do you always dress formal for the occasion?" She smiled begrudgingly, this kid was going to need someone in her corner, "That coat is big and masculine on you – I think I understand…your parents disapprove of your boyfriend and think that separating the two of you is a good idea?" Hannah noticed the boyfriend's watch too. It was almost like a bangle bracelet on Vanessa's thin wrist.

"Yes. So If I was going to attend this stupid school, I stole my mother's credit card and ran out of the car and just kept on going and going, so I could see Mark and say a proper goodbye. The reason for the dress is there was a winter formal dance last night. I have no clothes. I guess I can go shopping, unless my mother cancelled my access to use her card." Vanessa wanted to get out of her shoes so bad. Her feet were killing her.

"We might be the same size," Hannah went to her dresser and took out what looked like a black t-shirt and jeans, "I have a feeling this is not going to be your style."

Vanessa held the t-shirt up, "Are the Ramones a band?"

Hannah laughed with her, but NOT at her. This girl was squarer than square.

"Yes. _You_ might want to wear it inside out. We have free time until eight o'clock at night. Even though the school is closed, it supposedly makes Jenkins' life easier. Take a nap, we'll find some clothes for you and even if your mother's card won't work anymore, I'll buy."

"Why would you do that? _You don't even know me_."

"I know enough. You deserve a break, kid. I'm going back to my music. We'll stop for breakfast first."

Vanessa breathed a sigh of relief. At least her roommate was nice.

She hoped that Mark was okay. She wanted him to hold her and so she could feel taken care of. There was one thing she knew for certain and that was he was _**NOT**_ sharing a room with anyone good.

Damien was an asshole, who probably loved the fact that she and Mark were apart.

* * *

**Damien and Mark's Room  
**

Mark was tired but couldn't sleep. Damien, on the other hand, was sleeping soundly, which made Mark want to grab the clock off his end table and throw it at his head.

How come he didn't get in any trouble? How come he _NEVER_ got into any real trouble?

"DAMIEN! WAKE UP!"

Damien yawned as he turned over in his bed to face Mark. "Why are you yelling at me?"

"I don't think it's right that I got grounded for one month," Which was stupid considering he was going back to the military academy after the holiday break with no chance of seeing Vanessa in-between, "And no one noticed Christine was here after the dance?"

"Mark, here are two tips for you. Don't get caught and don't snitch on others who know what they are doing."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Damien."

"I think I'll get dressed and go outside for a walk before breakfast – it's cold out, _but it's still a nice day_."

Damn. Talk about kicking a man when he was down.

"I think that's a good idea." Mark put the covers over his head. He would try to fall asleep.

He missed Vanessa so much and hoped that she arrived in New York safely. He just wanted to hold her in his arms.

* * *

**Department store after breakfast**

"You probably hate stores like this." Vanessa said to Hannah while they were in the Junior Miss department with its racks of trendy clothes of the day.

Vanessa did take Hannah's advice to wear her band t-shirt inside out. Yet, there was a part of her that thought she could totally reinvent herself here and no one would be the wiser. She could cut off her hair and cake on the make-up and dress in revealing clothes, like an actor, wearing different outfits for their part. But she never wanted to be someone she wasn't.

While it was true that Hannah liked to get her clothes at vintage shops and the Salvation Army, she wasn't going to tell Vanessa that.

"Don't worry about it. Do my sneakers fit?" They were black lo-top Converse Chuck Taylor All-Stars.

"Yeah." They were a bit big, but she didn't want to hurt Hannah's feelings.

"Now, you'll probably get our stupid uniform when break is over. There is no laundry service until school starts again. I'll let you pick out your clothes. I'm going to the vintage record store across the street; we can meet there when you're done."

Vanessa couldn't believe how gracious Hannah was and that was a good reminder that looks do not make a person. She had to work to stop judging others. That was God's job not hers. Except for Damien, she really couldn't stand him.

She wasn't really in the mood for shopping. She was just going to have to buy clothes and shoes because she needed them.

It was then that she wished she were poor. It was the money that gave her parents the means to separate her and Mark. Why? Because they were in love with each other, wanted to save themselves until marriage, and believed in a higher power? That was some messed up thinking, while they were do-gooders for various charities and projects, but they treated their daughter like she couldn't make her own decisions.

"May I help you, Miss?"

Vanessa looked at the older woman of about fifty-five, who had dark hair with gray flecks. She was wearing those pointed bifocals that were hanging from the bridge of her nose and attached to a pink and purple beaded chain so they wouldn't fall to the tiled floor. She was carrying a bunch of velvet clothes hangers. The name tag clipped to her blouse identified her as 'Marge'.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll be getting a school uniform, but I need regular clothes."

"Why don't tell you me what you like and we'll see if your size is available?"

"Okay." She tried to smile in spite of her situation.

* * *

**Damien and Mark's Room  
**

Even with Damien gone, Mark could still not sleep. He sat at his desk to write Vanessa a letter. He would somehow have to get the address to the Preston Academy.

_**Dear Vanessa, **_

_**I miss you. **_

Mark tore the paper from the lined yellow pad, crumpled it up, and threw it in the wastebasket.

_**Dear Vanessa, **_

_**I'm sorry that your parents are…**_

Nope. He tried again, this time the ball of paper landed on the floor.

_**Dear Vanessa, **_

_**I love and miss you so much. I'm sorry that your parents are such jerks. I still don't know what we did wrong except miss curfew. My father grounded me for a month for last night. It really doesn't make any sense, since we are already apart. **_

"This came for you."

Fuck. Mark instinctively put his binder on top of the letter and turned around in his chair. Damien was holding a cardboard box and placed it on his cousin's bed.

"Thanks."

"Did you buy a present for Vanessa?"

"Yes. You can go now, Damien."

Damien knew these were patience tests, but still Mark had quite a lot of nerve to tell him that he couldn't be in his own room.

"This is also my space."

"Fine." Mark did not want Damien to see what he bought for Vanessa.

He wanted his girlfriend to have something to open for Christmas because he gave her his mother's necklace early. Now she was gone and he'd never be able to get this to her in New York in time.

"You can open it." Damien handed Mark the scissors from his desk handle side up.

"I'd rather wait."

"If you don't open this because I'm here, that really is not my problem." Damien went to stretch out on his bed, for no other reason than to prove he could.

"Damien, you don't know what it is like to REALLY LOVE someone else. Vanessa's parents did a real shitty thing to her. I don't expect you to understand."

"Right. Because according to you, I only love myself."

"So are you going to tell me that you love Christine? She has been your go-to lately, but I know you don't love her at all."

"You don't have to love someone to be with them."

Mark used the scissors as a box cutter and went across the strip of packing tape.

"No, you don't, Damien. It just makes for an empty existence."

Damien thought it was a good thing that Mark did not know about his true origins yet.

Mark was suddenly the expert on love? Just because Vanessa dangled sex in front of him like a carrot to a hungry rabbit? Who could only wait for marriage because their God told them so?

It took every fiber of his being to not force himself on his cousin. He was cognizant enough to know this was not the time and Damien really didn't want to will Mark to do anything. He only wanted him to look deep inside his person and come to those conclusions himself, when the time was right.

Mark opened up the parcel to take out the other box that was inside as Damien intently watched.

* * *

**Outside the Indie Record Store**

**NYC **

Vanessa met up with Hannah, she had two full shopping bags and Hannah had one square shaped brown paper one, which contained a used but good copy of Patti Smith's _Horses_.

"Are we going back to school?" Vanessa was still tired and wanted to put her head on a soft pillow to take a nap.

"I was hoping that we'd go out to Rizzo's for a milkshake."

"It's December and freezing."

"And we'll be inside. I promised Keith, my boyfriend, I'd buy him this album so he could learn the drum parts. Rox might be there too."

"Who is Rox?"

"Roxanne. She's goes to a school in New Jersey in a place that's just like Preston in a place that's just like yours in Illinois. She plays bass."

"I don't know. I don't know those people and we barely know each other, Hannah. You've been so kind to me and I really don't deserve it. What can I offer you guys? Under different circumstances you'd probably all make fun of me. I'd rather just go back to the school."

Hannah took Vanessa's white cotton gloved hand in hers. "That's not true. I know enough. You deserve friends. Is it just you and your boyfriend?"

"Mark seems to have more friends than I do. It's different with guys. Girls are just catty and mean. It never stops."

"Keith and Rox are cool. I would not have asked you join us, Vanessa, if I didn't want to. Besides, everybody loves a shake. What's your favorite flavor?"

Vanessa blushed; it seemed too typical, too corny, so white bread. Now she was back to her self-doubt and she wondered again, what could Mark possibly see in her?

"Vanilla."

"Nothing wrong with that. Everything mixes with vanilla. I like coffee with mocha chunks sprinkled on top."

Vanessa looked at the cracks in the sidewalk and then at Hannah. "Okay. Sure."

If Hannah wanted to invite her to meet her boyfriend and her friend over a simple milkshake, why was that a bad thing?

It would be nice to have friends, even if they were just casual ones.

Jesus, Mark, and a few friends by her side were all that she needed, until she and Mark had children of their own someday.

* * *

**Damien and Mark's Room**

When it was obvious that Damien wasn't going to leave until Mark opened up Vanessa's present in front of him. He did it quickly the way a mother would remove a bandage from a squirming child.

"I wish I could get this to her before _Christ_mas."

"Oh, isn't _that sweet_?" Damien got in for a closer look.

Didn't Vanessa already have one of these stupid fluffy white stuffed animals on her bed? Was she five-years-old?

It was a plush horse.

Mark didn't know where his patience came from, but he really wanted to take a swing at his cousin, but that didn't quite work out from the last time they had an escalated fight. No one would ever see his side. It just wasn't worth it to get into more trouble especially with the holiday being two days away.

Also whenever he was stressed he would get a massive migraine. Why bother fighting Damien? He'd never win and he had more important things to do.

"Now that you've seen it, you can go now, Damien."

"What's that around its neck?"

"A chain."

"Is Vanessa really worth all of this time and trouble?" Damien really had to know.

"Of course. But you have to LOVE someone besides yourself to understand the concept of LOVE in the first place," Mark sighed, maybe this would work, maybe not, but it was worth a try. "Why don't you read the Bible?"

Damien was astonished. Was Mark for real? Damien didn't know if he should feel insulted or find the whole thought amusing.

"Really?"

"I don't want to tell you how to live your life, but you might find some comfort in the Bible. _You seem to lack a spiritual side, Damien_."

Amusement. That's what Damien felt, because Mark had no Earthly idea on what he was rambling on about.

"Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

"I'm sorry if that upsets you, Damien. I know why this bothers you so and I never once brought it up…."

"Go ahead and speak your mind, Mark." Damien was too curious for him to stop in the middle of a sentence like that.

"You never want to talk about your parents. Your mother died when she fell out of a hospital window** and your father. How he tried to kill you in a church when you were little, causing the police to murder him to stop him from doing the same to you, because he snapped and went insane. All of this could make anyone reject their faith, but, _you of all **people**_ should embrace the teachings of Christ. I probably sound like some kind of holy-roller and that's not my intent. I do love you, Damien, even though you drive me crazy."

He wasn't about to hug him or share any other emotions. It seemed so anti-male, but if his cousin needed him, Mark would always be there. Maybe this talk would help him, and then all of the uncomfortableness would be worth it.

"You said your peace. I'm going outside."

"Are you mad at me, Damien?"

"No."

Mark tried to smile and decided to take a shower before getting dressed. When he closed the door behind him, Damien looked at the stuffed horse with its thin gold chain around its neck. A small script 'V' dangled from it.

_YOU TWO CANNOT CO EXIST_

"Shut up, Father." Damien whispered, "Just shut up."

Damien knew his disrespect would probably cause him to be punished later, but for now, he grabbed the invoice out from the packing materials and placed it on Mark's desk. He took a pen out of the plastic cup with the Chicago Cubs orange "C" logo on it and he proceeded to turn the receipt over to write on the back.

_**M,**_

_**This will be mailed to Vanessa. **_

_**Merry C – **_

_Fuck no. _

Damien would sooner have thrown himself into a pit of fire than write the word, so he changed it to

_**Merry Holidays, **_

_**D**_

He made sure the horse was put in the box and he took it with him before leaving the room. He would find Murray and whether by legal postal means or alternative measures the high-horse bitch would get her fucking steed, _**NOT because Mark loved her, but because Damien loved him**_.

Damien smiled brilliantly as he walked down the staircase carrying the package with the knowledge that he controlled all of their destinies in his hands.

* * *

*King James Version

**I'm giving Mark limited knowledge of Katherine Thorn's death.

**_Author's Note:_ _I went through every chapter to do some much needed fan fic housecleaning._**


	13. The Telephone Call

**Chapter 13**

**The Telephone Call**

**December 25, 1978**

**Monday**

**Thorn Kitchen**

Was this happiness?

It was after nine at night and Mark Thorn was content to sit on the bar stool in the massive kitchen with his head pressed against the telephone that was on the table. He just wanted to hear from Vanessa. It might have been outright corny to pray for a Christmas miracle, but he just hoped against all hopes that his girlfriend would call him.

He did phone information on Saturday and while he did succeed in getting the private number to The Preston Academy in New York City all he got was a voice mail stating that the school would reopen Monday, January 8, 1979 after the holiday break with no option to leave a message.

The 18k gold Rolex watch that his father gave him was off his wrist and on the table next to the phone. It just seemed like a colossal waste of money. He also purchased one for Damien, who of course, had absolutely no trouble in wearing it. It was if his cousin felt like he deserved it or something.

Granted, Mark _did_ need a watch after he gave his to Vanessa, but he didn't need an expensive one when a simple Timex would have been just fine.

"What are you doing in here all by yourself?" The servants were all retired for the evening.

Mark turned his head to the side to see Damien standing next to him.

Damien made sure the sleeves of his navy blue button down shirt were rolled up so his watch could be seen.

Mark knew it was only a matter of time that Damien would revert to his true nature again. It seemed completely unlike him to take it upon himself to make sure Vanessa got her present because he was grounded and couldn't leave the house.

"Waiting for a call. Why are you in the kitchen?"

There went Mark again giving orders. Damien thought the day wasn't so bad at all. The older they got the expected church mass was forgone, there weren't many visitors, so it was just a day of opening presents, having dinner, and watching sports on television. There were worse ways to spend a day.

"To see where you ran off to. We're seeing a movie…"

"Damien, I think with your superior intellect," Mark said with a touch of sarcasm in his voice, "you could figure out how to work the projector."

"Because it's so much better sitting in here by yourself waiting for a phone call that you probably won't receive?"

If his Father really wanted to do him a huge favor, Vanessa could die a tragic death right this second. Really what was the point in keeping her around?

"Damien, you don't understand. I told you I appreciate you mailing Vanessa's gift to her, but that doesn't change the fact that I miss _**MY GIRLFRIEND **_and I would like to talk to her today while there is still a few hours left in the holiday."

Damien went to the refrigerator to take out a can of soda.

"So you'd rather sit here and sulk? That makes no sense to me."

Mark was actually surprised when Damien turned around and left. He was even more astonished when the phone rang. He picked it up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Mark? Merry Christmas!"

"Vanessa! It is so nice to hear your voice. Merry Christmas. How was your day?"

"Boring. I couldn't use the phone until our housemother left on what she thinks is one of her oh-so-secret dates. Hannah, my roommate, sneaked out to go to some club and she said I could use her private line. I just had to use a code so her mother would get the bill and not the school. I miss you so much."

"I miss you too, 'Nessa. Christmas was boring too. It's just the same old, same old. We don't even go to mass anymore. It has nothing to do with the birth of Christ, only how much one family can outspend the other."

Damien who was listening from the doorway rolled his eyes. They were so nauseating. He decided to walk upstairs and go to his room so he could hear all of their conversation.

"I wish I was able to buy you something."

"I don't need a gift. You are my gift."

"Mark," She could feel her cheeks blush, "You are so sweet. I loved my horse and necklace. I hope you don't mind that I'm keeping the chain where you put it. I feel it's right to only wear the cross."

"Vanessa, I don't mind at all. It's your gift to with what you please. My Mother would have definitely have loved you."

"That's a sweet thing to say. Is Damien bothering you?"

"No more than usual. I can't figure Damien out. One minute, he does something nice like mail your present to you because I'm grounded and then the next he's back to himself. I don't know if I should tell you this, but since I initiated the conversation with him, I guess it's okay. I advised Damien to read the Bible."

Vanessa didn't mean to let out a laugh. "Oh, Mark. That is what I love about you. You are too kind. Damien is probably the type of person who would stomp on the Bible."

"I try to be compassionate because his parents, my uncle and aunt died. My uncle snapped and tried to kill him. It really is enough to mess anyone's mind up. No wonder he can't form any real attachments."

"Did Damien take your advice?"

"I don't think so. Maybe, he's an atheist. That would be a shame, but I can't tell him what to do."

"Also no matter how much faith in the Lord a person has, they can still be a jerk and I think Damien is just a terrible person that you need to stay away from."

* * *

Damien's face flushed with anger as he gently put the receiver back in its cradle.

_Exodus 22:18* Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live._

_I fucking hate her. _

_Please, Father, let me be the one who actually gets to kill Vanessa. _

* * *

It was Mark's turn to let out a laugh, this one for a humorous reason.

"I'm not laughing at you, honey, just with you."

"I just feel very stupid."

"The Ramones _are_ a punk band."

"Hannah probably thinks I'm a dork, but she's really nice. She told me she is an atheist. That has to be a pretty empty existence. What does she cling to when times get tough?"

"I know. I'd be lost without my faith…"

* * *

Damien came downstairs just as Ann was walking towards the kitchen.

"There are you are, Damien. We wondered where _you_ ran off to."

Damien noticed the omission of Mark in her sentence.

"I was just upstairs."

"We're getting ready to watch _Holiday Inn_…that is _if Richard_ can figure out how to use the projector."

That was when Ann acknowledged Richard's biological son. She only saw Mark as a servant. Damien noted that in his brain.

"Mark, wrap up your phone call." Damien bellowed from the doorway.

Mark covered the receiver in his hand, "Damien, drop dead. I'm the phone."

Ann put her arm around Damien to lead him toward the family room; her touch didn't seem motherly at all. It was more like she wanted to rip his clothes off and give him satisfaction in front of her husband.

However now was not the time to break free from the happy Thorn family façade.

* * *

"Vanessa, I really hate to go, but I think I'm expected to watch…no I'm expected to work the projector for some stupid holiday movie, when I'd rather be here talking to you."

"Mark, I know. I'm just glad we were able to have this time tonight. I know my stupid parents are going to not only make me take winter courses here, but the spring term as well. When school is done, I hope I'm allowed to see you." Her parents didn't even call her to wish her a happy holiday.

"If you can't come to Chicago, I'll visit you in New York, okay?" he tried to remain optimistic for her sake.

Vanessa sniffed to stop herself from crying. She just wanted to hold him so bad. "Okay. Until next time, I love you, Mark, Merry Christmas."

"I love you, too. Merry Christmas, darling."

* * *

It was three in the morning when Damien went downstairs to see what was left of the cookie platter. He wouldn't mind a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a tall glass of cold milk.

He was relieved that this wretched holiday was over. His eyes caught a miniature nativity scene on the small end table that was next to the Grandfather clock.

Damien picked up the soft marble infant from the manger that was supposed to represent the Christ child and quickly threw it in the fireplace as he watched it get engulfed by the flames.

_Burn, baby, Burn. _

* * *

*King James Version

_**Author's Note: I always thought it was strange that the Thorn's did not have a winter home in a warmer climate, so I took pieces from both houses for my take on Thorn Manor. **_


	14. My One True Love

**Chapter 14 **

**My One True Love**

**February 11, 1979 (Sunday)**

**6:30 a.m.**

Damien was pissed off.

Normally, he'd be the happiest _being_ on the planet over something like this.

His cousin, soldier of Christ, and general do-gooder who just came off his insignificant grounding was going to embark in an act of teenage independence that just might get him right back on punishment detail.

Damien was stretched out on his bed watching Mark change his mind about the large blue suitcase he took out of his closet and decided to use his DMA issued duffle bag instead.

"You're actually going to go through with this?" Damien had to know.

"Yes. You aren't going to snitch _are you_?"

Damien could have been insulted that Mark would think that he of all beings would have done such a betrayal. He however, let it go, because it would all be taken care of soon.

"No, Mark."

Mark going almost eight hundred miles to be with his pristine and smug girlfriend who would not put out was not Damien Thorn's idea of a good time.

"You're angry, Damien. I can tell." Mark disappeared into his closet to get some shirts.

"I'm _NOT_ angry." Damien knew his emotions were much more complicated than being simply angry.

"The answer is within you…"

_I swear Mark if you tell me the answer is to find Christ….don't make me hurt you. Because I don't ever want to be put in such a position, don't you ever make me do bad things to you.  
_

Mark came back into view and stuffed his clothes into the bag.

"You don't have to keep company with only slutty girls, you can find someone nice to settle down with."

"You sound like a middle-aged man."

Mark decided to ignore Damien's ignorant comment. He was never going to understand because he didn't have someone else in his life.

"Whatever happened to that mystery girl?" He hoped the four hundred dollars that he had in his wallet was enough.

Mark lied to his father and told him that his friend Benjamin invited him to the Foster's summer home in Malibu Beach. He thought either he was a very good liar or that his father was stupid or in denial about such things, but all that mattered was getting the "A-okay" to go.

"Do you mean Sage?"

"Yeah...she seemed to have disappeared as quickly as she came."

Damien often wondered what happened to the mysterious girl who seemed to know who he was, but he knew nothing about her. Father wasn't supplying the information and he wasn't able to gather anything on his own which pissed him off. Besides he was never one to chase after people.

"There's other fish in the sea."

Damien smirked at Mark's use of such an overused cliche.

"What do you think you are going to accomplish?" Because even if it was never going to happen, Damien still had this insatiable need for knowledge.

"What do you mean?" Mark deflected Damien's question with another question.

He wanted his cousin to love him without Damien having to make it happen and yet no matter what clues he carefully put in front of Mark, he still wanted to be with that high-horse bitch instead.

Damien grabbed the extra pillow that was behind his head and put it in front of him as he needed to subtly squeeze the life out of something.

"What is your life purpose?"

Mark thought Damien was a hypocrite, but he didn't want to wind up punched in the face again. He just told him that he was acting like a middle-aged person and here he was presenting him a question such as this.

"To graduate high school, go to college far away, and start my life with Vanessa." Mark zipped up his duffle bag.

Damien's facial expressions went from pissed to disgusted. Mark wanted the idyllic life in the suburbs in a house surrounded by a white picket fence, his idiot wife, and their future brood. He wanted what was not real. This rationale was expected from him from the day he was born, including his little teenage 'rebellion', none of these thoughts were of his own making and that was something that Vanessa also needed to know someday.

_But how, Father?_

Mark_ wanted to_ be far way from Damien.

He _didn't want_ him in his life.

_All because of her._

_No._

Damien stood up. He needed to leave this room before he said or did anything that he wouldn't be able to take back. Damien decided for Mark's safety he would go outside to the stables and pay a visit to the horses.

Let him have his insignificant visit with Vanessa. It wasn't going to change a damn thing.

"Damien?" Mark questioned as his cousin closed the door behind him.

Mark sighed as he grabbed a paper tablet and pen off his end table. Sometimes he felt very sorry for Damien. Until he opened up about those horrible events of childhood, until he at least found some inner peace through the Bible's teachings. He would always have this hardness about him. A tough shell that should not have been in a young man.

Damien deserved to have happiness.

He wrote his itinerary on the paper and thought, maybe he was the answer. Maybe, he could set Damien up with someone.

It would be nice to see his cousin experience the wonders of loving another person. And then maybe once he opened his heart to someone else, then he would learn what life was really about.

Mark Thorn would personally see to it.

* * *

**Preston Academy**

**NYC**

**90 Minutes Later**

Vanessa Greenhill was all alone again.

She didn't want to write letters to Mark because she was afraid they'd be intercepted by his folks or - worse yet - Damien - and they didn't get to talk to each other much on the phone.

Hannah wasn't even here to keep her company as she and her band were in upstate New York recording a demo record during the time off from school.

She knew that Jenkins was pissed having one student that did not go home for the winter break meaning she couldn't technically leave the premises.

This school was just as bad as her previous one. Preston's version of Christine was a girl named Amy Sidwell, a snotty entitled girl whose father worked on Wall Street, her mother was a surgeon at Roosevelt Hospital.

Lauren Jamieson was the Charlotte ready to fuck any guy that came in her web.

Their boys of choice all went to the neighboring Sullivan Prep.

Vanessa didn't want to venture out by herself. She thought she could go to the Thorn office that was in the financial district. But it could get back to Mr. Thorn that she was nosying around and she didn't want Mark to get punished because of something she did.

The only she could do and not lose her mind in the process was to read her Bible that she purchased on the day she got her small amount of clothes and pray that she would be seeing her boyfriend sooner rather than later.

* * *

**Thorn Manor**

Damien zipped up his jacket. It was twenty-five degrees and windy outside. At least the weather was _a feeling. _It was legitimate. The snow made a crunching sound under his feet as he walked towards the stables.

What was he going to do with the five days* during Mark's absence? Didn't Mark realize he could go to Richard and Ann and tell them, that he wasn't spending time with the Fosters? That he was really going to pay his holier-than-thou stuck-up girlfriend a surprise visit? Mark should be grateful that Damien was even allowing this non-event to happen in the first place.

There was only one outcome.

There was only one end game.

The stables were heated so Ruby and Lucky didn't have to deal with being out in the cold.

The time frame for this was no different than a business deadline. His Father stated that they couldn't co-exist and Damien knew if Mark wouldn't follow him - _fuck_.

Damien pet his horse. It was funny how Ruby and Lucky could spend the rest of their lives coexisting. It never had to come down to one of them dying if they refused to comply.

What if Mark refused to comply? Damien didn't even want to think of the consequences. It was only February, they were still was still some time left, not as much as Damien would have preferred, but at least it was there. He needed to figure out what to do next.

He grabbed two apples from the basket and gave Ruby and Lucky their treats before heading back inside the house.

* * *

**Preston Academy**

**New York City**

Vanessa was bored out of her mind. Hannah said she could listen to her records, but she didn't care about The Clash, Sex Pistols, or The Ramones.

It wasn't her type of music. She was content to just read the Bible or to leaf through one of the magazines of the day.

Vanessa never wanted to be something she wasn't. She just wanted to graduate high school, get married to Mark, and start a family. She didn't even want to go to university. She had goals, they just weren't the aspirations of girls in her peer group, when they weren't having premarital sex.

She wanted to join a church with Mark before they got married, so they could see if it was going to be a good fit for them. She wanted to be away from the money and greed, her parents, while they may have been liberal in their politics but they acted just like some of the more conservative leaning parents.

There was a knock on her door and she stopped reading. It couldn't have been Hannah, maybe it was Jenkins. But then again why would she knock?

When Vanessa opened the door, no one was there. She just happened to look down to see a card on the floor. Did Hannah have an admirer?

The blue envelope had her name typed. She took out a card, it was sky blue with white clouds, the golden letters and the inscription also typed was "I miss you." but there was no signature.

"I think I forgot to sign your card."

Vanessa looked up with surprise eyes to see Mark in the doorway holding an ink pen, his duffle bag at his feet.

"Mark! Is it really you?"

Mark knew Damien thought their love was corny, but it was genuine and it was something he would never be ashamed of.

"Yes, Baby. It's really me."

Vanessa threw her arms around him to give her boyfriend a big hug, it was only when they were in the middle of kissing each other that she realized she was in the corridor. They kissed each other with pent up passion.

"M-Mark, what are you doing here?"

"Surprising you?" He gently took the card out of Vanessa's hand and signed _Love Always, Mark _before handing it back to her.

She rested her hands on his shoulders. "You did a good job. Do your parents know that you are here?"

"No. They think I'm with Benjamin Foster and his family in California."

"What if you get into trouble?"

"We're going to be eighteen eventually. What is my father going to do? Force me to join the Army?" Mark picked up his bag.

Vanessa laughed, "How did you get by….it doesn't matter...ssh," Vanessa whispered, "Come into my room and we'll figure out the rest later."

"Happy Early Valentine's Day, 'Nessa." he kissed her once more and realized in the planning of this trip he forgot to get her a present for what the more cynical people referred to as a greeting card holiday.

"Happy Valentines." She was so happy to see him.

Mark and Vanessa walked arm-in-arm into her room both believing they had all the time in the world.

* * *

**Thorn Kitchen**

Damien was restless. It surprised him that he could not finish his sandwich, normally he could eat two at a stretch. He needed to do something with this malevolent energy building up inside him. There were no maids in the kitchen and he didn't feel like going upstairs to make a phone call.

Why not? He thought as he went to the telephone and decided to place a call.

"...Hello?"

Damien swallowed. A game. All of this was a game and it would all be over soon.

"Hello, Christine, it's Damien…."

"Hello, Damien! I'm glad that called."

"Are you doing anything right now?"

He knew if she had plans she would promptly break them to do what he asked of her.

"No, Damien," She twisted the ends of her hair, "What did you have in mind?" Valentine's Day was just around the corner.

"I'll pick you up in an hour. Be ready." He didn't give Christine a chance to reply he just hung up the telephone.

* * *

**NYC**

Vanessa thought normal teenagers would be having fits of ecstasy in bed with their partners regardless of whether they loved one another and not sitting on the bed after an all-too-quick make out session to play one of the dusty old board games that Hannah had stashed in the back of their closet on the top shelf.

"...you must be tired of me, Mark." Vanessa nervously shook the dice cup.

"Never 'Nessa. Trust me, it's okay. When you are ready. Your turn."

"How did you get past Jenkins by the way?" She figured a much needed change of a subject was in order.

"There was no one around." If Mark learned one thing from Damien it was to take advantage of an opportunity so when he noticed a delivery truck going towards the front entrance, he made his way around the back.

"We should do something else besides play board games. Why don't we go out for lunch?" She looked at his watch on her wrist.

"Of course." Mark figured he should be careful walking down the streets since Thorn had a New York City location, but on the other hand, there was a part of him that didn't care if he was caught.

He squeezed her hand tight.

"I love you, Mark Thorn."

"I love you, Vanessa Greenhill." He leaned in to kiss her.

"How about pizza?" She offered.

"Sounds good to me."

* * *

**Old Cemetery**

**an hour and a half out from Thorn Manor**

Christine buttoned her coat up to her neck, she was absolutely freezing and couldn't help but shiver. She envisioned being in Damien's strong embrace as he kissed her hard while she gave him a handjob while they were in some place warm.

"Damien, why are we here at a cemetery? I'm fucking freezing."

"Christine, you did so well with our game at the winter formal. Do you remember?"

Yes, she did...and it all lead to great sex with Damien plus that goody-two-shoes Vanessa being shipped to a school in New York City.

"Yes, I do...Do _you_ remember what we did after?"

She had to be kidding thinking she had the upper hand.

"Of course. Well, don't you think I brought you here for a reason?"

"You brought me to an old cemetery outside the city limits for a reason? And what reason is this?"

Damien led her to a dilapidated shed and opened the door.

_Nice touch, Father_.

Christine preferred hotel suites, limousines, and parties. This place was scary in the daylight, she couldn't even imagine what it would have looked like in the dark. The wind rattled what was left in the shed causing her to jump and she didn't want to appear scared in front of Damien.

"To play another game."

"Will this lead to us fucking?"

"It might." He went over to her and kissed her like she mattered.

"Okay…." Christine wondered if Vanessa was already gone what game could they possibly be playing in this cemetery?

* * *

**Pizza Place**

Vanessa held Mark's hand in the candlelight as they waited for their pizza to arrive. She always thought going into these dark romantic restaurants when it was daylight outside was pure magic.

""Nessa," Mark took a drink of soda, "I was thinking and would love your opinion on this. I think we should set up Damien with somebody."

Vanessa sighed, "You are just too wonderful. Your heart is always in the right place."

"Maybe if he meets someone, he will finally understand what is so important in life."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Mark, but I don't think your cousin is capable of loving another. Why subject someone to him?"

Mark sighed. If Vanessa saw Damien as a lost cause...maybe this was something he was going to need to do on his own.

"I wish the two of you would get along." Although that was easier said than done, considering he had his own issues with Damien. But he was going to be married to Vanessa one day and he wanted everyone to be at peace with one another.

"That would take a miracle from up above." Vanessa stated as the waiter came by with their order. She didn't want to say what she really felt, Damien was not worth it.

She didn't want to waste her short time with Mark talking about his cousin.

* * *

**Cemetery**

It was like static coming from a mixed radio signal within Damien's brain.

_don't….wrong….mark….don't think….your cousin….is capable of lov…._

He almost felt himself lift out of his own body and could kill the banal Christine right then and there if it weren't for his growing ability to stay calm.

"Dam-ien, I don't know…." Christine whined thinking Damien would give in and just take her to some place warm where they could have sex. She really didn't want to do this. This was much different than the games they played before.

Damien reached for her hand and squeezed it tight while he locked into her eyes with his.

"...All-right….I guess it'll be _fun_..." Her voice uncertain.

* * *

**Next Day**

**NYC **

Vanessa thought she was the luckiest woman and she partly wished that Christine and Charlotte were around so she could say that you didn't need to have sex to be happy, that there was a contentment and joy with waiting. No one knew or cared that Mark was here, because Jenkins used this time for her own romantic pursuits she didn't care about her and Hannah were up to.

The sun shone through the windows and Vanessa smiled as Mark blinked his eyes open.

"Good morning," She kissed Mark, "I love having you here."

"I love being with you, 'Nessa."

They shared a morning kiss before deciding where they wanted to go out for breakfast.

* * *

**Suburb outside Chicago**

Christine cried into her pillow. It wasn't the sex with Damien. She liked it rough and he delivered**.

It's what she had done….oh fuck...what had she done?

* * *

**Thorn Manor**

Damien did not feel satisfied. He stretched in his bed wishing Mark was present and watching him get dressed after the shower while he stroked himself under the covers.

Even manipulating Christine didn't give him any pleasure.

_Father….fuck…._

_DAMIEN STOP YOUR WHINING…._

_But...I want Mark with me not with that wretched high horse bitch…_

_THEN MAKE IT HAPPEN…._

_How?_

_FIGURE IT OUT YOURSELF. AND DAMIEN….._

_Yes?_

_DON'T EVER DISAPPOINT ME._

_Of course, Father…_

Damien sighed. His eyes caught the calendar that was hanging up on the wall. What was he going to do?

"Mark," Damien announced to the empty room, "I love you…and as my father is my witness, the wonderful Satan, you better damn well love me too."

* * *

**NYC**

Vanessa drank her orange juice in the diner not far from her school where her and Hannah plus her roommates friends had cocoa and she felt like a fifth wheel because she didn't like rock music and couldn't relate to their conversations.

"When did you buy these?" Vanessa put her hand on the heart shaped box of chocolates.

"Last night when we were at the pharmacy and you were looking at hair ties."

"Very sneaky." Vanessa thought he had bought a sports magazine.

"Vanessa…" Mark pointed to the TV that was on in the corner. Mark knew that cemetery. It was the stuff childhood haunted nightmare tales were made of on Halloween night. He dared never to go there.

The waitress put the volume up.

"...In National News***, The abandoned St. Vincent de Paul cemetery outside of Chicago, Illinois was vandalized sometime last evening…"

"How terrible." Vanessa said over the television. She always thought how sad it was when cemeteries were in disrepair. Didn't anyone care about the dead? Was performing upkeep on a cemetery such a daunting task? Seeing all of the destruction made her push her plate of pancakes off to the side.

"Who would do such a thing?" Mark wondered.

Vanessa wondered, no, it was too far-fetched. What if Damien was behind this? She was convinced that he had no soul.

"I don't know Mark, but, if you are done eating. I'd like to just go back to school."

Maybe if she fell asleep in her boyfriend's loving arms all of the world's evils would just go away.

Didn't people realize God saw all? Whoever did such a heinous act Vanessa was convinced God would get every last one of them for their blasphemous behavior.

Mark squeezed Vanessa's hand tight. He could get their meals wrapped up to go. "Of course."

Maybe once Vanessa was back in Illinois with him and they were official high school graduates they could do some charity work in between their college courses. There was too much darkness in this world and he absolutely wanted no part of it.

_Ezekiel 7:25 **** _

_Destruction cometh; and they shall seek peace, and there shall be none._

* * *

**Author's Notes:  
**

*Five days, not the length of the winter break, just how many days Mark visited Vanessa.

**That might be better suited for a one-shot someday so that is why there are some gaps in this particular chapter.

*** No 24 news cycle yet, CNN wasn't invented until 1980.

**** King James Version.


End file.
